Helen dried her tears, and forced, a smile to greet her wounded child,
who was now being lifted from the bottom of the boat, and gently
carried on shore by two of the men. His pallid countenance, and blood-
stained garments, struck a chill to her heart; but she concealed her
grief, and silenced the sobs and exclamations of the warm-hearted
little Edith and her terrified brother; and then, having affectionately
welcomed the almost fainting boy, she hurried away with the children to
prepare for his reception in the comfortless log-hut.

Assisted by Janet--the faithful servant who had nursed her children,
and followed her from England to Holland, and from Holland to America--
she soon arranged a bed for their patient; and Henrich smiled
cheerfully, though languidly, when he found himself again beneath the
humble roof that was now his home, and surrounded by all whom he loved.
His wound proved to be a severe one--more so than his father had
imagined; and the loss of blood had been so considerable that he was
reduced to extreme weakness. Now it was that Helen felt the absence of
all the comforts, and even luxuries, to which she had been accustomed
from childhood, but of whose loss she had hitherto never complained.
Henrich's illness proved a very long and painful one; and
notwithstanding the kindness of all her friends, and the attentions
paid by the rest of the settlers to the young patient--who was a
general favorite--it was difficult to procure for him either the food
or the medical attendance that his case required: and frequently his
parents feared that a foreign grave would soon be all that would remain
to them of their dearly-loved child.

To add to their anxiety and distress, an epidemic disease, of which
some signs had appeared in the settlement before the exploring party