old Indian, and advancing years had increased his intensity, that he did not feel at peace while so many of his people were wandering from the fold. So long as a little strength remained, he was determined to do what he could.
Twice during the day he met several Indians along the trail. To them he gave his message, telling of the willingness of the ones he had met the night before to go back to The Gap and renew their allegiance. These listened with great interest, and all expressed themselves ready to join in the return to the fold. They asked many questions about the Gikhi, and Tom told them all he knew, and also about Zell and the miserable white man who had injured her.
Tom was thus more encouraged than ever. He was meeting with unexpected success, and he sped on his way with renewed energy. As the afternoon waned, and the sun went down, he became very weary. The excitement of the day, and the toilsome journey, were telling upon him. Every hill he faced seemed harder than the last, and his snow-shoes were becoming very heavy. But still he struggled forward, knowing that the encampment for which he was heading was not far away. There he would receive a hearty welcome, and obtain the needed rest and food.
At length the sound of voices fell upon his ears, and a light winged its way among the trees. Tom stopped abruptly, for what he heard filled him with apprehension. It was a confused babel of voices, telling plainly of serious trouble. Stepping quickly forward, he soon came in sight of the encampment, and in the shelter of the trees he stood for a few minutes and watched all that was taking place. He knew the meaning of the disorder only too well. Hootch was the cause, and he
