m of recollection, until
near the return of the light.

When he did recover, he found himself lying at the foot of a tree, his
hands bound, and an Indian guarding him. All efforts to escape he
found would be vain, and he silently submitted to his fate. About
mid-day the other three of his captors joined the one who guarded him,
and, after conversing hastily a few moments, they began a hurried
march. The prisoner perceived one of them examining him often and
attentively, viewing him in various situations, apparently
endeavouring to make out a recognition of one formerly known. At
length, on the fourth day, as he was alone with the prisoner, he
seated himself upon the smooth sward, and, bidding the other do the
same, he addressed him in the following language:--

"Listen!"

"I listen," said the prisoner.

"Where hadst thou thy dwelling-place when thine arm was first able to
bend a healthy sprout of a single season, and thy heart first began to
count upon its strength to look upon the glaring eye-ball of a mad
wolf?"

"Far from here," answered the prisoner, his eyes filling with tears,
and sighs bursting from his heart, at the image of youthful love and
bliss recalled to his mind by the allusion to his birth-place. "Upon
the bank of a distant river, more than three suns travel from the spot
where I became the captive of the red man."

"White men have forked tongues," answered the Pequod; "but thou shalt
mark it out on the smooth surface of the white birch, that my memory
may tell me if thou hast spoken true."

The prisoner, with a piece of coal taken from their fire, marked out
the dwelling in which he resided at the period alluded to by the
Indian. He seemed satisfied.

"It is well," said he. "Now show me the cabin to which thou wert
going, when the red man paid a small part of his debt of vengeance on
thy race, by taking thee captive."

The prisoner made a second drawing, representing his little field and
his cabin, including the chesnut-tree.

"Was there another bird in the nest of thy father when thy soul first
began to feel the proud confidence and conciousness of approaching
manhood?" demanded the Pequod, eyeing him intently.

"There was," answered the captive--"a little maiden."

"And where is that bird now?"

"She is the wife of my bosom. _Is_, did I say--Alas! she may not be
living--she has undoubtedly perished by the hands of the accursed
beings who fired my dwelling, and chained the feet that w