any. He is going north into the great woods; will sail this
morning. He is a great trader and hunter and he has asked me to
apprentice myself to him. He promises he will make my fortune. He has
taken as great a liking to me, I reckon, as I have to him. We shall
get on famously together. In that broad, free life I shall grow a full
man, and soon. I can earn money, and make a home for you and
Wahneenah, and many another lonely, helpless soul. Yes, I must go. I
can't let the chance pass. And you must be brave, and the Sun Maid
still, and forever. I shall want to think of you as always bright and
full of laughter. Like yourself. But you are not like yourself now,
Girl-Child. Why don't you speak? Why don't you say something?"

"I guess there isn't any 'say' left in me, Gaspar," answered the girl,
in a tone so hopelessly sad that it almost made the lad waver in his
determination. Only that wavering had no portion in the character of
the ambitious youth, and he looked far forward toward a great good
beyond the present pain.

When the day was well advanced, the schooner sailed away, from the
dock at the foot of the path from fort to lake, with Gaspar upon her
deck, trying to look more brave and manly than he really felt. But a
forlorn little maid watched with eyes that shed no tears, and a
pitiful attempt at a smile upon her quivering lips till the vessel
became a mere speck, then disappeared.

After a long while, she was aroused by something again moving over the
water.

"He's coming back! My Gaspar's coming back!" she cried, and tossed
back the hair which the wind blew about her face that she might see
the clearer. A moment later her disappointment found words: "It's
nothing but a common Indian canoe!"

However, she remembered her foster-brother had set her a task to do.
She must begin it right away. She was to be as helpful to everybody
she ever should meet as it was possible. Here might be one coming who
hadn't heard about that dreadful fifty-dollar prize money. She must
call out and warn him. So she did, and never had human voice sounded
pleasanter to any wayfarer. But her own intentness discovered
something familiar in the appearance of the young brave, paddling so
cautiously toward her and keeping so well to the shore. She began to
question herself where she had seen him, and in a flash she
remembered. Then, indeed, did she shout, and joyfully:

"Osceolo! Osceolo! Don't you know me? Kitty? The Sun Maid? The
daugh