A silent nod of the head was the reply.

"Wilt thou carry me a message?"

A nod of acquiescence answered as before.

"Go, then, quickly, and tell John Elmer, that a man, wounded by a gun,
is lying in my hut, and I desire him to come instantly."

The squaw again nodded, and, without making an inquiry, with the
natural apathy of her race, she said--

"What Father Holden say, I do."

The Indian, who, until now, had been silent, here addressed her in his
own tongue.

"Can the Partridge," he said, "use her wings to no better purpose than
to fly upon the errands of her white master?"

"Ohquamehud," said the squaw, "is a wise warrior, and his eyes are
sharp, but they see not into the heart of a woman. If the sunshine and
the rain fall upon the ground, shall it bring forth no fruit?"

"It is well," said the Indian, in a sarcastic tone; "Peéna is well
named; and the Partridge, though the daughter of a Sachem, shall
flutter through the air to do the bidding of the white man."

The eyes of Peéna, or the Partridge, flashed, and she was about to
return an angry reply, when she was prevented by the man whom she had