a, or the laughter of
his children, is it to strike an enemy. His flesh is good, for it
strengthens a red heart. The wolf will never become a lamb, and the
wolf is the totem of my clan. Ohquamehud has said."

It would be impossible to describe the conflicting emotions of Holden
during this savage speech. Whatever might have been the wild incidents
of his youth, or whatever his wrongs and sufferings, the time was long
past, and he had supposed all stormy passion subdued, and his heart
chastised to resignation and submission. He listened at first with
unmixed horror to the Indian's declaration, but as the savage went on,
the words became more and more indistinct, till they lost all meaning
or were converted into other sounds, and, as in a dream, made the
aliment of his thoughts. The whole conversation, and the very language
in which they spoke, contributed to produce this state of mind. Lost
to all around, his soul was far away. He saw a cabin beside a mountain
torrent, overshadowed by immense trees. It was summer, and the birds
were singing among the branches. The door of the cabin opened, and a
young and beautiful white woman stepped out, holding a child by the
hand. Suddenly it was night, and the cabin on fire, and he heard the
yells of savages, and saw them like so many demons dancing round the
flames; then hush, all again was still, and darkness brooded over the
spot, lighted only by a flickering brand.

The bosom of Holden heaved convulsively, and his brain reeled.

The Indian watched his changing countenance with an eager look as
if he revelled in his agony. Not a hard drawn breath, not a single
expression escaped his notice. He saw the eyes of the Solitary flash,
then settle into a dreamy gaze as if looking into a dim, unfathomable
distance, then shut, as if he tried to exclude some horrid sight.
Suddenly, with a shudder, Holden sprang to his feet.

"Accursed Shawnees," he cried; "they have done this deed. But for
every drop of blood they shed a river shall flow. Dog!" and he seized
the Indian with a strength to which madness lent additional force, and
dashed him to the ground, "thou art first delivered into my hand."

He staggered toward the fallen man--stopped--glared at him a moment
and with a wild cry rushed into the hut.

The Indian, who had immediately risen from the fall, and stood with
folded arms regarding his motions, slowly gathered up his disordered
blanket about him and stalked towards the canoe