I have never seen her at Parrtown, what a handsome face and fine form she has" "And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form, or lovelier face." The bow of the canoe had now touched the shore, and the Indian lass most politely made a courtesy to the ladies in the canoe.
After landing, Mrs.Fowler put a piece of silver in Jim Newall's hand and asked him if he would take them back home again in an hour or two.
Jim nodded an assent as he pulled his little bark out of the water to the dry land.
Mrs.Godfrey, once on shore, fully recognized that she was at the old camping ground of her protector in by gone days, Paul Guidon.
The squaw replied to Mrs.Godfrey's inquiry after her sick husband, that he was very weak, almost dead.

Does he know that a white woman is doming to see him this morning?
asked Margaret G."Yes," replied the Indian woman, "he be so glad see you, but he be very weak, no speak, he told me in whisper last night, after I come back camp from Jim Newall wigwam, best friend, best woman ever saw, was pale face woman, who told him of Great Chief, Big Spirit, and great hunting ground way back sun, where old Mag, (mother) was now.

Pale face woman gave him book, and would talk Great Spirit and tell him look after Paul and make him good man." Is your husband's name Paul?
asked Margaret Godfrey.

"Yes mam," she answered, "Paul Guidon his name." Mrs.Godfrey felt all must be a dream.
She appeared lost and bewildered after she had heard the name Paul Guidon.

She cast a glance at her companion and exclaimed, "Am I back to the old camping ground of Paul Guidon, and is he here ?" Then her faculties seemed to desert her, for at that instant she staggered and fell into the arms of the Indian woman, with such force as to almost knock the squaw over.