Mrs. Woods was filled with terror, but a moment's thought recalled her
resolution. She lifted her hand, and, pointing to the saw in the wood, she
said, with a commanding tone:

"Saw!"

The Indian obeyed awkwardly, and wondering at the progress of the teeth of
the saw through the wood. It was a hot day; the poor Indian soon became
tired, and stopped work with a beating heart and bursting veins.

"Saw--saw!" said Mrs. Woods, with a sweep of her hands, as though some
mysterious fate depended upon the order.

The saw went very hard now, for he did not know how to use it, and the
wood was hard, and the Indian's only thought seemed to be how to escape.
Mrs. Woods held him in her power by a kind of mental magnetism, like that
which Queen Margaret exercised over the robber.

"Water!" at last gasped the Indian.

"Saw--saw!" said Mrs. Woods; then turned away to bring him water.

When she looked around again, an unexpected sight met her eyes. The Indian
was flying away, taking the saw with him. She never beheld either again,
and it was a long time before any Indian appeared at the clearing after
this odd event, though Mrs. Woods ultimately had many adventures among
the wandering Siwashes.

A saw was no common loss in these times of but few mechanical implements