en preparing some venison steaks, which,
with some cakes from the oven, were devoured by the Indian with the same
avidity with which he had swallowed the broth. But although the food
considerably revived him, he still showed evident signs of exhaustion;
so Rachel, placing a buffalo robe in the corner of the room, invited him
to lie down and rest. He staggered towards it, and in a few minutes his
heavy breathing showed that he was asleep.

Uncle Jeff was somewhat astonished, when he came in, on seeing the
Indian; but he approved perfectly of what Clarice and Rachel had done.

"To my mind," he observed, "when these Redskins choose to be enemies, we
must treat them as enemies, and shoot them down, or they will be having
our scalps; but if they wish to be friends, we should treat them as
friends, and do them all the good we can."

Uncle Jeff forgot just then that we ought to do good to our enemies as
well as to our friends; but that would be a difficult matter for a man
to accomplish when a horde of savages are in arms, resolved to take his
life; so I suppose it means that we must do them good when we can get
them to be at peace--or to bury the war-hatchet, as they would express
themselves.

The Indian slept on, although he groaned occasionally as if in pain,--
nature then asserting its sway, though, had he been awake, he probably
would have given no sign of what he was suffering.

"I suspect the man must be wounded," observed Uncle Jeff. "It will be
better not to disturb him."

We had had supper, and the things were being cleared away, when, on
going to look at the Indian, I saw that his eyes were open, and that he
was gazing round him, astonished at seeing so many people.

"He is awake," I observed; and Clarice, coming up, made signs to inquire
whether he would have some more food.

He shook his head, and lay back again, evidently unable to sit up.

Just then Uncle Jeff, who had been out, returned.

"I suspect that he is one of the Kaskayas, whose hunting-grounds are
between this and the Platte," observed Uncle Jeff; and approaching the
Indian, he stooped over him and spoke a few words in the dialect of the
tribe he had mentioned.

The Indian answered him, although with difficulty.

"I thought so," said Uncle Jeff. "He has been badly wounded by an arrow
in the side, and although he managed to cut it out and bind up the hurt,
he confesses that he still suffers greatly. Here, Bartle, you are the
best doct