reconnaissance before trusting themselves to slumber.

He returned as noiselessly as he went, remarking as he resumed his
seat that no danger whatever threatened them, and they could slumber
in peace. While speaking, he drew from a pocket within the skirt of
his bunting-shirt, the little Bible which had been presented to him
months before by Mrs. Preston of Wild Oaks, after the other volume
was destroyed by the bullet that was aimed at the heart of the
youth, by the hostile chieftain.

Adjusting himself in an easy posture on the ground, so that the
ruddy fire-light came over his shoulders and fell upon the page with
its minute letters, the young Shawanoe read for several minutes to
himself. The others held their peace, impressed with the singular
sight. Neither could doubt that he clearly comprehended every word
of the sublime volume, and they felt that it was wrong to break in
upon his meditation.

All at once he raised his head and asked, "Would my brothers wish to
hear Deerfoot read?"

"We would, indeed," was the reply of Jack Carleton; "I never saw an
Indian who could read from a, printed book, but I have been told
that you can write an excellent hand."

Deerfoot shook his head disparagingly.

"My brother mistakes, but Deerfoot will try and read the words which
the Great Spirit speaks to all his people, whether they are pale
faces or red men."