"Santa Cruz better,"--rejoined the sententious Tuscarora.

"Santa Cruz is certainly _stronger_" answered the captain
laughing, "and, in that sense, you may find it better. You shall have a
glass, as soon as we go to the house. What news do you bring, that you
come in so fast?"

"Glass won't do. Nick bring news worth _jug_. Squaw give _two_
jug for Nick's news. Is it barg'in?"

"I!" cried Mrs. Willoughby--"what concern can I have with your news. My
daughters are both with me, and Heaven be praised! both are well. What
_can_ I care for your news, Nick?"

"Got no pap-poose but gal? T'ink you got boy--officer--great chief--up
here, down yonder--over dere."

"Robert!--Major Willoughby! What can _you_ have to tell me of my
son?"

"Tell all about him, for _one_ jug. Jug out yonder; Nick's story
out here. One good as t'other."

"You shall have all you ask, Nick."--These were not temperance days,
when conscience took so firm a stand between the bottle and the
lips.--"You shall have all you ask, Nick, provided you can really give
me good accounts of my noble boy. Speak, then; what have you to say?"

"Say you see him in ten, five minute. Sent Nick before to keep moder