ill he felt that, according to the
savage code of the natives, blood must atone for blood, and he believed
that already the life of Henrich had probably been sacrificed in
expiation of his father's having slain the son of the Nausett Chief.
Still he led his warriors on, and neither paused nor spoke until the
party emerged from the thick wood, upon a little opening that was
lighted up brilliantly by the moon-beams. Here, where it was evident a
small temporary encampment had existed, and had only been very recently
and hastily removed, he stopped, and looked earnestly around. The poles
still stood erect which lied supported the tents of the Nausetts; the
fires were still burning; and many articles of domestic use lay
scattered about, which the hasty departure of the inhabitants had
probably prevented their removing.

Rudolph hurried through the camp in search of some sign of his son; and
his eager eye fell on the well-known tunic that Henrich was accustomed
to wear. He snatched it up hastily; and then, with a deep groan, let it
fall again upon the ground. The breast of the tunic was pierced through
in several places, and the whole dress was stained with blood--blood
that was newly shed.

Maitland pointed to this evidence of his son's death! and when the
Sachem had examined it, he set his teeth together, and drew in his
breath with an oppressed, hissing sound, as of severe pain.

'It is over, my friend,' he said, in a low deep voice to Rodolph--'it
is over; and we are too late. Naught now remains but to take revenge--
full, ample revenge. Let us follow the miscreants.'

Rudolph turned, and looked at him. He fixed on him such a searching
gaze--a gaze so full of gentle reproof and of deep settled grief-that
the warm-hearted Chief stood silent, and almost abashed before his
Christian friend.

'Is it thus you have learned of Brewster?' said the sorrowing father.
'Is it thus that you are taught in that book which the Great Spirit has
dictated? The Father of us all has declared, "vengeance is mine; I will
repay "; and since we are too late to save my son, we will not commit
deeds of blood which his now happy and ransomed spirit would abhor.'

Mooanam was silenced, but not convinced. Inwardly he vowed vengeance
against those who had dealt so cruelly with the unoffending boy;
though, under similar circumstances, he would probably have acted with
the same spirit. But the Chief bad allied himself with the white men.
He loved