This was accomplished in a short time under his skillful manipulations, and a hearty meal afforded to every one of the little company.

Lieutenant Canfield noticed that neither the Huron nor his son ate more than a mouthful or two, and he was now satisfied that the news brought by the latter was bad and disheartening.

He refrained, however, from referring to the subject again, well knowing that the Indian would tell him all that he thought proper, when the time arrived.
They had just completed their meal, when Niniotan and Oonomoo started, raising their heads, as if something had caught their ears.

Listening a moment, the latter said: "Somebody comin'." "Hebens, golly! am it Injines ?" asked Cato, looking around for some good place to hide.

The eyes of the soldier and Miss Prescott asked the same question, and the Huron replied: "Ain't Injins--walk too heavy--white men." "They must be friends then," exclaimed the girl, springing up and clapping her hands.
"Dey're comin'-- hear 'em." The dull tramp, tramp of men walking in regular file was distinctly audible to all, and while they listened, a clear, musical voice called out: "This way, boys, we've a long tramp before we reach that infernal Indian town." "Your father, as I live!" whispered the soldier to the girl beside him.
The next moment, the blue uniform of an officer of the Federal army was distinguished through the trees, and the manly form of Captain Prescott, at the head of a file of a dozen men, came into full view.
"Hello! what have we here ?" he asked, suddenly stopping and looking at the company before him.