same shape all de way down from her head to her heels. So I let dat Ferrington have her."
The Huron, who understood all about that matter, indulged in a broad smile at this remark. Whatever his business was, it was manifest he was in no hurry, else he would not have indulged in this by-play of words with his friend.
"You doesn't t'ink de baby will dies, does you?"
"No—in de settlement—Shawnee can't git her now—don't live off in de woods like as dey did afore."
"Dat's lucky for her; don't t'ink dey will get her there, 'cause dey tried it once—dat time, you remember, when we was all in de HUNTER'S CABIN in de woods, and you came down de chimney, and I watched and kept de Shawnee off."
The Huron signified that he remembered the circumstance well.
"Dem was great times," added Hans Vanderbum, calling up the recollection of them. "I left de village one hot afternoon, and walked all de way t'rough de woods to get to de cabin to help dem poor folks. We had mighty hard times. I catched a cold and couldn't shtop my dunderin' nose one night when it wanted to shneeze, and dat's de way de Shawnee catched me. Twan't so bad arter all," added Hans Vanderbum, musingly, "'cause if it wasn't for dat I wouldn't got my Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock."
"How soon go back?" asked Oonomoo.
"To de village, do you mean?"
"Yeh."
"Any time afore noon will does, so Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock gits de fish for our dinner."
"One, two hours," said the Huron, looking up at the sky, "den sun git dere," pointing to the zenith. "Shawnees know here?"
"Know me here? Guesses not; don't care if dey does, nor dey doesn't care neider."
"Shawnees won't come here?"
"No, no, Oonomoo, you needn't be afraid—"
"Afraid who?" demanded the Huron, with quick fierceness. "Oonomoo never run afore one—two—t'ree—dozen Shawnees. He only runs when dey comes like de leaves in de woods."
"Dey won't come like de leaves. If dey does, why you can leave too, and I t'inks you know how to use dem legs dat you've got tacked onto you. I t'inks you run as fast as me."
"So I t'inks," replied the Indian, with a grin.
"Dere's no mistake but dem Shawnees would like to get your scalp, Oonomoo."
"Two—t'ree—hundreds—all Shawnees like to git Oonomoo's scalp—nebber git him—Oonomee die in his lodge—scalp on his head," said the Huron, proudly.
"I hopes so; hopes I will, too."
The expression of the Indian's face was changed. It assumed a dark, earnest appearance. He was done trifling, and wished to commence business.
"See her dis mornin'?" he asked, in short, quick tones.
"See who?" asked Hans Vanderbum, in turn, completely at a loss to understand him.
"De gal."
"De gal? Who you talking about—Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock?"
"De gal Shawnees got in de village."
The Dutchman's blank expression showed that he did not comprehend what the Huron was referring to; so he added, by way of explanation:
"Shawnees kill women and children—deir warriors squaws—don't fight men—burn houses toder day—run off wid gal—got her now in de village—she gal of Oonomoo's friend—Oonomoo want to get her."
From these rather disconnected expressions, Hans Vanderbum understood that a war-party of Shawnees had brought in a prisoner who was a friend of the Huron's. It was for the purpose of learning something regarding her that he had signaled the fisherman to leave his hook and line and come to him. The captive having reached the village quite recently, he had failed to be apprised of it, so that Oonomoo learned no more than he already knew regarding her.
"When did dey took her?" asked Hans Vanderbum.
"When sun dere, yisterday," replied the Indian, pointing off in the western horizon.
"Do you want to know 'bout her?"
"Yeh."
"Den I goes find out."
So saying, Hans Vanderbum strode away through the forest in the direction of the Shawnee village.
CHAPTER II.
OTHER CHARACTERS.
"He joys to scour the prairies wide,
Upon the bison's trail;
To pierce his dark and shaggy hide
With darts that never fail.
"His is the lion's strength in war,
In peace, the lion's rest;
And the eagle hath not flown so far
As his fame throughout the West."
Upon leaving the Huron, Hans Vanderbum hurried toward the village, as rapidly as the peculiar structure of his body would allow. As has been remarked, he was well acquainted with Oonomoo, knowing him to be a faithful ally of his race. He was anxious, therefore, to show his friendship to the savage. Down, too, somewhere in the huge heart of the plethoric Dutchman, was a kindly feeling for the distress of a human being, and he felt willing and anxious to befriend any hapless captive that had fallen into the hands of the relentless Shawnees.
So absorbed was he in meditating, that he took no heed of his footsteps until he was suddenly confronted by his spouse, Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock, who, flourishing a sort of hoe over his head, demanded, or rather screeched:
"Where's your fish?"
Hans Vanderbum winked very rapidly, and putting his hands up over his head, as if to protect it, "I forgots all about dem. I goes right back and gots dem."
He wheeled around as he spoke, receiving a resounding whack from the hoe, by way of a reminder, and went lumbering through the woods in search of his basket of fish. He experienced little difficulty in finding it, and in a few moments was back again to his affectionate partner.
"How did you get wet?" she asked, looking at his flapping garments.
"Dem little Dutchmen done it; dey fixed de limb and made it proke and let me down in de water and almost drownded. Quanonshet and Madokawandock will be de death of deir poor dad."
The
