dared and endured so much, evidently
depended upon his ability to approach the Indian village without
awakening suspicion, it was undeniable that an attack upon the party in
the vale, unless resulting in its complete destruction, must cause, to be
borne to the Black-Vulture's town, and on the wings of the wind, the
alarm of white men in the woods; and thus not only cut him off from it,
but actually bring upon himself all the fighting men who might be
remaining in the village. To attack the party with the expectation of
wholly destroying it, was, or seemed to be, an absurdity. But to desert a
wretched prisoner whom he had it perhaps in his power to rescue from
captivity, and from a fate still more dreadful, was a dereliction of
duty, of honour, of common humanity, of which he could scarce persuade
himself to be guilty. He cast his eyes up the glen, and once more looked
upon the captive, who had sunk to the ground, as if from exhaustion, and
whom the savages, after beating him awhile longer, as if to force him
again on his feet, that they might still enjoy their amusement, now fell
to securing with thongs. As Roland looked, he remembered his own night of
captivity, and hesitated no longer. Turning to Nathan, who had been
earnestly reading the struggles of his mind, as revealed in his face, he
said, and with unfaltering resolution,--"You say we _can_ rescue that
man.--I was a prisoner, like him, bound too,--a helpless, hopeless
captive--three Indians to guard me, and but one friend to look upon me;
yet did not that friend abandon me to my fate.--God will protect my poor
cousin--we must rescue him!"

"Thee is a man, every inch of thee!" said Nathan, with a look of uncommon
satisfaction and fire: "thee shall have thee will in the matter of these
murdering Shawnee dogs; and, it may be, it will be none the worse for
thee kinswoman."

With that he motioned Roland to creep with him beyond the crest of the
hill, where they straightway held a hurried consultation of war to
determine upon the plan of proceedings in the prosecution of an adventure
so wild and perilous.

The soldier, burning with fierce ardour, proposed that they should take
post respectively the one at the head, the other at the outlet of the
vale, and creeping as nigh the enemy as they could, deliver their fire,
and then rushing on, before the savages could recover from their
surprise, do their best to finish the affair with their hatchets,--a
plan, which, as he