roubled. He was unwilling to lose the booty he expected to find
in the fort, at the same time that he remembered his promise to his
adopted son, and was struck also by what he had said about his white
friends.

Laurence thus went on eloquently to plead his cause; at the same time,
he took care not to acknowledge how unable the garrison were to hold out
much longer.

"You have conquered, my son," exclaimed the chief. "I will speak to
your brothers; your friends should be our friends. Had blood been shed,
our people would have been unwilling to listen to my counsels; but now
all will be well. Show the flag you carry, that no one may fire at us
as we retire. We will return to our camp, and you will there see many
who will welcome you joyfully again among them."

Laurence, rejoiced at the success of his mission, stood waving his flag,
while the Sioux retired from around the fort. He then quickly followed,
and overtook the chief. Inquiries were made for his father, who had
been received into the tribe and long resided among them. Laurence
replied that he hoped he would soon return, and that he was sure he
would be well pleased to hear that they had refrained from injuring his
white friends.

On reaching the camp, Laurence was received with warm greetings from his
red-skinned brothers and sisters, for he was looked on as a brother by
all the tribe. He soon found his way to a lodge in which was seated an
old woman with shrivelled features, her long white locks hanging down
over her skeleton-like shoulders. No sooner did she see him than,
uttering a wild shriek of delight, she seized him in her withered arms,
and pressed him to her heart.

"My child!" she exclaimed; "and you at length have come back to visit
the mother who has been yearning for long years to see you; and you have
not forgotten her?"

"No, indeed," answered Laurence; "from the day my white father took me
away I have ever thought of you, and recollected the happy times I
passed under your care."

"You have come, then, once more to be a brother of our people!"
exclaimed his old nurse. "You will not go away again; but you will stay
and live in our lodges, and grow up and become a brave hunter of the
buffalo and moose, and gladden the eyes of one who loves you better than
any white mother."

"I have white friends who love me, and have treated me kindly; I should
be loath not to see them again. And there is my white father, who may
come for me,