Nattie could hardly refrain from smiling at what she now heard. Black-bird saw it, and said:
"You needn't smile at this news, Tulip; these white folks are Canada Frenchmen, as much worse than Indians as one can tell. You had better turn into white beads than fall into their hands."
"Why should they touch me?" said Nattie.
"I thought that you was thinking of going to them," responded Black-bird, with a sharp glance, "and only wanted to tell you that you had better stay where you are."
The squaw now came in, bringing the herbs. As she stripped them into the earthern pot, a sweet odor was diffused through the cabin, which quieted Nattie so much that she fell asleep.
While she slept, a horn rang loudly through the neighboring forest, followed by a succession of warlike whoops. All the family flew to the door. The old chief, his son, and several other
