wo rabbits. When darkness
settled down Whispering Winds called the dog within the cavern, and
hung the screens before the opening.

Several days passed. Joe rested quietly, and began to recover
strength. Besides the work of preparing their meals, Whispering
Winds had nothing to do save sit near the invalid and amuse or
interest him so that he would not fret or grow impatient, while his
wound was healing.

They talked about their future prospects. After visiting the Village
of Peace, they would go to Fort Henry, where Joe could find
employment. They dwelt upon the cabin they would build, and passed
many happy moments planning a new home. Joe's love of the wilderness
had in no wise diminished; but a blow on his head from a heavy
tomahawk, and a vicious stab in the back, had lessened his zeal so
far that he understood it was not wise to sacrifice life for the
pleasures of the pathless woods. He could have the last without the
danger of being shot at from behind every tree. He reasoned that it
would be best for him to take his wife to Fort Henry, there find
employment, and devote his leisure time to roaming in the forest.

"Will the palefaces be kind to an Indian who has learned to love
them?" Whispering Winds asked wistfully of Joe.

"Indeed they will," answered Joe, and he told her the story of Isaac
Zane; how he took his Indian bride home; how her beauty and
sweetness soon won all the white people's love. "It will be so with
you, my wife."

"Whispering Winds knows so little," she murmured.

"Why, you are learning every day, and even if such was not the case,
you know enough for me."

"Whispering Winds will be afraid; she fears a little to go."

"I'll be glad when we can be on the move," said Joe, with his old
impatient desire for action. "How soon, Winds, can we set off?"

"As many days," answered the Indian girl, holding up five fingers.

"So long? I want to leave this place."

"Leave Beautiful Spring?"

"Yes, even this sweet place. It has a horror for me. I'll never
forget the night I first saw that spring shining in the moonlight.
It was right above the rock that I looked into the glade. The moon
was reflected in the dark pool, and as I gazed into the shadowy
depths of the dark water I suddenly felt an unaccountable terror;
but I oughtn't to have the same feeling now. We are safe, are we
not?"

"We are safe," murmured Whispering Winds.

"Yet I have the same chill of fear whenever I look at the beaut