her, and walked to the Indians
who were waiting for him. A stout fellow lifted him on the horse in
front of him, and dashed away; but Fanny could see him trying to obtain
a last view of her, as the savages entered the forest. She missed him
very much as the boat continued on her course. The Indian boy was much
attached to her, and she found herself much interested in him. She has
not seen him since they parted, and probably they never will meet again
in this world; but her blessing will go with him, and perhaps her
gentle influence will soften his savage nature, and be reflected in his
kindness to the white people with whom he may come in contact.

At sundown the bateau passed into the Minnesota, and at dark the party
landed at Mankato, only three miles below the mouth of the Blue Earth,
on which the last part of the voyage had been made.

We need not say that the party found plenty of warm friends; for when
it was known that they were fugitives from the Indian massacre, every
house and every heart was open to them. Troops in large numbers had
gone forward for the suppression of the insurrection, and confidence
was in a great measure restored. The place was full of people who had
escaped, and the savages were being captured and sent hither for trial.

The party were accommodated at the house of a trader, who supplied them
with all they wanted, both of food and clothing. It was now time to
think of the future. By the merciful interposition of Providence, the
exiles had been saved from death and captivity; but they had no home,
and no relations. Fanny knew what a warm welcome awaited her at
Woodville, and she was desirous of going there; but she had no money to
pay for such a long journey. She mentioned her wish to the trader, and
he promptly offered to advance her a sufficient sum to enable her and
Ethan to reach their destination.

"Where are you going, Rattleshag?" asked Fanny, when her own and
Ethan's future movements had been arranged.

"I dunno."

"Why don't you join the sogers, and help put down the Injins?" asked
Ethan. "You are a dead shot, and they'd like to hev you."

"I can't do thet," replied Rattleshag, shaking his head.

"Why not? They want all the good men they kin git, and you'd be wuth a
heap to 'em, for you know all about the Injins,--whar to find 'em, and
how to trap 'em," added Ethan, with considerable warmth; and he was a
little inclined to offer his own services.

"The Injins hes allers b