orne up like a martyr thus far; but the
precipitation with which he sought a seat the moment a pause was made,
showed that he had taxed nature to the utmost. The cool fluid was taken
from the brook in the canteens of the hunters, all the blood thoroughly
washed from the Indian, and then the wound was carefully bandaged by
Edith, from pieces of her own dress. This done, the savage rose to his
feet--his head being so swathed and bundled up that it was nearly
thrice its ordinary size--and looked about him with an air that was
truly amusing.

"You'll be all right agin in a few days," said Harry Smith. "Let's move
on, as the day is getting well along."

"Oonamoo don't go furder--leave you here," said the savage.

"How is this? Come, go with us to the settlement and stay till your
wound gets better," said Lewis.

All joined their entreaties, but it availed nothing. The savage had
made up his mind, and it could not be changed.

"Can't stay--Shawnees, Delawares, all round--git much scalp in woods,"
and waving them an adieu, he plunged into the forest.

"Injin is Injin!" said Jim Smith; "you can't change his nature. The
missionaries have had a hold of him, and made him an honorable
red-skin, but they can't get that hankering after scalps out of him.
Shall I tell you where he's going? He's going back: to the clearin'
where them dead Injins are stretched, and intends to get their
top-knots. I seen him look at 'em very wishful-like when we started
away. He was too weak, and he didn't want to do it afore Edith, or he'd
've had 'em afore we left that place."

[The next time the Riflemen encountered the Huron, it was upon the
war-trail, and full a dozen more scalp-locks hung at his girdle!]

Again the party moved forward, now with considerable briskness, there
being no cause for tardiness or delay. Sego and Edith conversed in low
tones, every look and action showing their perfect happiness, while the
hardy leader of the Riflemen was as wretched an object as it is
possible to imagine. They had progressed several miles, when, as they
descended a sort of hollow, they encountered O'Hara, hurrying along as
fast as the shortness of his legs would permit.

"Hello!" he exclaimed, suddenly halting. "Is the row done with?"

"Of course it is," replied Harry Smith.

"Who finished it?"

"We all had a hand in it, I reckon."

"It's an all-fired shame. As soon as--where's Oonamoo?" he abruptly
demanded, looking around him.

"Gone of