he snow, and others examined the bushes. Small twigs, not larger
than pins, were picked up and closely scrutinized. They well knew that
any one passing through the frozen and clustered bushes must
inevitably sever some of the twigs and buds. Their progress was slow,
but unerring. The course they pursued was the direction taken by Mary
and her rescuer. It was not long before they arrived within a few feet
of the place of the maiden's concealment. But now they were at fault.
There were no bushes immediately around the fallen tree. They paused,
the chief in the van, with their bows and arrows and tomahawks in
readiness for instant use. They knew that the maiden could not return
to her friends on foot, or the treacherous savage be able to bear her
far on his shoulder. They thought that one or both must be concealed
somewhere in the neighbourhood, and the fallen tree, were it hollow,
was the place most likely to be selected for that purpose. After
scanning the fallen trunk a few minutes in silence, and discovering
nothing to realize their hopes, they uttered a terrific yell, and
commenced striking their tomahawks in the wood, and ripping up the
bark in quest of some hiding-place. But their search was in vain. The
fallen trunk was sound and solid throughout, and the young chief sat
down on it within three paces of Mary! Others, in passing about,
frequently trod on the very verge of the concealed pit.

Mary was awakened by the yell but knew not that the sound came from
her enemies. The Indian had told her that he would soon return, and
her heart now fluttered with the hope that her father and her friends
were at hand. Yet she prudently determined not to rush from her
concealment until she was better assured of the fact. She did not
think the savages would suspect that she was hid under the snow, but
yet she thought it very strange that her father did not come to her at
once. Several minutes had elapsed since she had been startled by the
sounds in the immediate vicinity. She heard the tramp of men almost
directly over her head, and the strokes against the fallen trunk. She
was several times on the eve of rising up, but was as often withheld
by some mysterious impulse. She endeavoured to reflect calmly, but
still she could not, by any mode of conjecture realize the probability
of her foes having returned and traced her thither. Yet an undefinable
fear still possessed her, and she endeavoured with patience to await
the pleasure o