u
untie his feet he will run away."

"That is what I was just thinking about. I think one of us had better
return for the colt, and make him ride."

"Very good, if you can get him on and make him stay there," said the
chief.

"Make him go himself: tie him so he cannot run away," suggested Edward.

"I am not sure but that would be the best plan," said Howe. "I am sorry
he got that blow on his arm; I am sure it pains him; see how he
attempts to raise it, and groans at every motion he makes."

"Do you really think, uncle, he is human? It strikes me he is a monkey,
or an orang-outang, rather than human."

"There is neither monkey nor orang-outang in the North American
forests. One such snow as now lies on the ground, would kill a myriad
of them. I am quite confident of the customer I have to deal with. He
is no more nor less than a wild man, whose long exposure to the
elements, and total isolation from every human being, has caused the
hair to grow over his body. This also explains why he cannot speak like
us."

They then endeavored to get him forward, having partly untied his feet
so as to allow him to move. The chief, with a stout cord, went forward
and endeavored to urge him on, but the wild man refused to move. After
exhausting every plan they could devise, they bethought themselves of
coercion. Howe accordingly raised a club as if he would strike, when,
with a wild cry of alarm, he raised his eyes imploringly, at the same
time starting forward, when the chief moving on, gave him to understand
he was to follow.

On perceiving what was required of him, and finding it was useless to
attempt an escape, he made no further opposition to follow, although it
was not safe to be near him as he gnashed with his teeth at every one
that approached him.

Reaching the temple without further trouble, Edward called the
attention of Jane to the new addition to their family, and said with
perfect gravity--

"I really think you have one of the most devoted wooers; see what a
rare prize he has risked life and limb in securing for you, which he
begs you will have the kindness to accept from him in token of the love
he bears you."

"Why, what a monster it is," said Sidney, walking round and round it.
"It is a comical keepsake to give a girl, I must say. Really, chief,
you Indians have curious tastes about such matters."

"My brother gave his squaw a cub," retorted the chief, angrily, as they
all burst into a laugh at the ver