oking man for an
Indian. At the second glance a fancy began to steal into his thoughts
that at some time of his life he had had a dream in which he had seen
such a form and face as that he now had before his eyes. At the third
glance it began to dawn upon him that he had not only dreamed of seeing
but really had seen that man before. At last, having fairly succeeded in
cornering a dodging, skipping sprite of a recollection which he had been
chasing about in his memory for the last ten minutes, Mish-mugwa, in
open-eyed amazement, brought himself along-side Shekee-thepatee, to
whose ear bending down he exclaimed in a big whisper, "Kumshy!"

Reynolds started. A vague something of the sort had been flitting before
his mind ever since the stranger's sudden appearance at the dismal scene
in the dingle. During the many years that had come and gone since that
eventful first of June, he and Burl had often talked of the good and
brave young Indian warrior who had shown himself so gentle and true a
friend to the forlorn little captive in his hour of peril and need. In
brightest remembrance had they held him ever since, coupling every
mention of his name with some expression of gratitude or admiration, or
with the mutual remembrance of some pleasant incident of his sojourn
among them. Yes, though changed from the bright-eyed, graceful youth
they had known him, they felt in their hearts that their deliverer could
be none other than their old friend Kumshakah. But who was Kumshakah?

Without opening his lips to speak a word, or turning his head to glance
behind him, silently, swiftly glided the Indian on before them, straight
against the setting sun. At length, late in the day, after traversing
the forest for some miles, they came to the head of a quiet little dell
which, scooped out smoothly from among the hills, descended without a
curve to the valley of the Thames. Here the chieftain halted, and
pointing before him, his bright eyes turned now full and clear upon
them, said in English, "Your friends."

Looking in the direction pointed out, and running their eyes down a long
vista made through the trees of the dell by a brook on its way to the
main stream, our hunters spied the American army where, at the distance
of a mile, it had halted to encamp for the night. The tents, already
pitched and all agleam in the low light of the sun, were scattered
picturesquely about among the trees at the bottom of the dell, which
then expanding