I rose, and following the traces of his blood, arrived fortunately at the shore just as they were embarking.

God permitted me to see him again, supported by one of the savages, and even to hear his feeble voice cry, 'Console yourself, Fritz, I am not dead; I am only wounded in the shoulder; it is not your fault; go, my kind brother, as quick as possible to papa, and you will both'-- the canoe sailed away so swiftly, that I heard no more; but I understood the rest--'_you will both come and rescue me_.' But will there be time?
Will they dress his wound?
Oh! father, what have I done! Can you forgive me ?" Overwhelmed with grief, I could only hold out my hand to my poor boy, and assure him I could not possibly blame him for this distressing accident.
Ernest, though greatly afflicted, endeavoured to console his brother; he told him a wound in the shoulder was not dangerous, and the savages certainly intended to dress his wound, or they would have left him to die.

Fritz, somewhat comforted, begged me to allow him to bathe, to divest himself of the colouring, which was now become odious to him, as being that of these ruthless barbarians.

I was reluctant to consent; I thought it might still be useful, in gaining access to the savages; but he was certain they would recognize him in that disguise as the bearer of _the thunder_, and would distrust him.

I now recollected to ask what had become of his gun, and was sorry to learn that they had carried it off whilst he lay insensible; he himself considered that it would be useless to them, as they had fortunately left him the bag of ammunition.
Ernest, however, regretted the loss to ourselves, this being the third we had lost--the one we had left in the canoe being also in the possession of the savages.