some others, when they proceeded to renew the search, though towards evening he urged all to return to their homes and take some food and rest; and when all except Denis, weary and disheartened, had followed his advice, he caught hold of Denis’s arm, and insisted on his returning home with him.
“Let me alone,” said Denis; “do you think I care no more for her than they do; even you think little of her in comparison with me. I will never cease searching for her till I find her living or dead.”
“Nor I, neither,” said Keefe; “but now come to Helen, she may have something to tell us.”
“What could she have to tell us?” said Denis, but catching at any straw of hope held out to him he suffered Keefe to lead him away.
Helen met them at the door, and the sight of Denis’s haggard and desponding face filled her with compassion.
“You must not despair,” she said gently, “Keefe has told me that Coral was accustomed to wander alone in the woods all day from childhood. I feel certain that she will come back to us safely.”
Scarcely hearing her words, Denis mechanically entered the house, and Keefe was following him, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and, looking round, saw Woodpecker beside him.
“Allright,” said Woodpecker, “O‘Brien got her.”
He then told Keefe that he had found out the lodge inhabited by the Young Panther without being seen by any one, and, as soon as it grew dark, he stealthily cut a hole in its birch bark covering, through which he could see and hear all that passed within. O’Brien was eating his supper, the Young Panther silently watching and attending to his wants, and Coral lying on a pile of skins in a corner of the wigwam.
Woodpccker saw O’Brien bring her food and try to make her eat, and he learned from what was said that she had not tasted anything since she had been among the Indians, but she took no notice of his entreaties, she gave no sign that she heard or saw him, but lay passive and still as if she were dead. Finding his efforts useless, O’Brien left her, and Woodpecker then heard him tell the Young Panther that he intended to take Coral farther to the west that very night as soon as all the men of the party should have gone to the fishing-ground and his canoe get away unobserved. Evidently no one in the camp was aware of Coral’s being there except O’Brien and the Young Panther, and he intended to take her away as secretly as he had brought her thither.
“The rifle shall be yours, Woodpecker,” said Keefe, “shot-belt and powder-horn to boot. But we haven’t a moment to lose. Come in till I tell Denis and get my pistols.”
As quickly as possible Keefe told Denis and Helen all he had learned. The tidings restored Denis to life and energy, and brought back all the sanguine elasticity of his nature.
“At last, Keefe,” he exclaimed, “we have him in our power.”
“Yes, but you must not be rash, Denis; remember our first object is to rescue Coral. There, I take one of those pistols. Have you got your long ,’ knife, Woodpecker?”
Then he went up to Helen who stood resting her arm on the back of a chair and watching him with painful anxiety.
“We shall be back in two hours,” he said, “and bring Coral with us.”
“Is there any danger, Keefe?” asked Helen, speaking as firmly as she could.
“Why, what must you think of us to ask such a question,” said Keefe smiling, “there will be three men against one, and that one quite unprepared for an attack.”
“Come along,” said Woodpecker to Denis, who was impatiently waiting for Keefe, “let him bid good-bye to his squaw; she’s a pretty squaw, and a good, not too much talk and nonsense about her, like some of them chattering white women,” and he pushed Denis into the stoup, and followed himself. They were quickly joined by Keefe, and then they all proceeded as rapidly as possible to the Indian camp; sometimes dimly lighted on their way by the stars, sometimes going through wood so thick, that the light of those distant orbs could not pierce the branches.
“Now,” said Keefe, as soon as they reached the encampment, “Woodpecker must lead us.”
“Best not go straight through all those lodges,” said Woodpecker, “take a bend, and come up the hollow of the creek, then he’ll not see, or hear us, till we’re on him, except he be a devil.”
“He is one,” said Denis, savagely.
“Well, we must take our chance, all the same,” said Woodpecker, philosophically.
Skirting the encampment, they followed their guide round the bank, and along the margin of the stream, till they came to a spot which he had! marked, as just under Night-hawk’s wigwam. He stopped and pointed upwards.
“Lodge up there,” was all he said, but his eager companions needed no more. Darting up the bank, they were soon before the wigwam which stood at some distance from any of the others, and was screened by a cluster of cedars. Keefe threw one scrutinising glance round, and their raising the blanket, which hung at the doorway, entered, Denis closely following. O’Brien had his back to the entrance, and was stowing such articles as he thought worth taking with him into a leather bag, assisted by the Young Panther; Coral at the first glance, they did not see. They had no time to take a second, for the sound of their hasty entrance of course made O’Brien look round, and the flame of the pine-torch which lighted the lodge flashed full in the face of Keefe, and O’Brien saw the man he dreaded more than any one else in the world beside him. Iron in nerve and sinew, and with a heart of flint, O’Brien was usually as inaccessible to fear for himself, as to pity for others, but at this sudden and unexpected apparition he felt his heart quail. No weapon was within his reach, and deeming flight his only resource, he sprang suddenly back, and pushing aside a piece of bark which concealed a doorwayI at the back of the wigwam, rushed through it.
Keefe and Denis sprang after him, and on reaching the open air found themselves on the verge of a precipice down which they had very
