called Father Holden.

"Hasten!" he said, in the same language, forgetting himself, in the
excitement of the moment, and unconsciously using the same figurative
diction, "or the fountain of the red stream may be dried up before
the medicine-man comes. Hasten! It is noble to do good, and the Great
Spirit shall bless the deed."

Great was the astonishment of the Indians at discovering they had been
understood, and hearing themselves addressed in their own tongue.
But only an expressive hugh! and an involuntary stroke of the paddle,
which sent the canoe dancing over the water, betrayed their surprise.
Holden stood for a moment gazing after them, then turning, directed
his steps towards the hut. We will not follow him, but pursue the
departing Indians.

For five minutes, perhaps, they paddled on in silence, each apparently
unwilling to betray any curiosity about a circumstance that engrossed
the thoughts of both. At last the woman spoke.

"The Great Spirit has taught the words of the wigwam to the man with
the Long Beard."

A shrug of the shoulders and another hugh! were the only notice taken
by her companion of the observation. Again a silence followed, which
was broken this time by the man. As if to express his dissent from the
conjecture of the squaw, he said,

"The Long Beard has drunk of the streams that run towards the setting
sun, and there he learned the speech of warriors. Did he charm