exchange, nor any signs of any overture on the part of the Angry
Snake. Captain Sinclair, who was usually at the farm twice during the
week, was also much fretted at finding that every time Malachi and
Alfred had no more information to give him than he had to impart to
them. They hardly knew how to act; to let a second winter pass away
without attempting to recover the boy, appeared to them to be delaying
too long, and yet to communicate intelligence which might only end in
bitter disappointment, seemed unadvisable; for the Indian chief, out of
revenge, might have killed the boy, and then the grief of the father and
mother would be more intense than before. It would be opening a wound to
no purpose. This question was frequently canvassed by Alfred and Captain
Sinclair, but an end was put to all their debates on the subject by an
unexpected occurrence. Mary Percival had one morning gone down to a
place called the Cedar Swamp, about half a mile from the house to the
westward, near to the shore of the lake, to pick cranberries for
preserving. One of the little emigrant girls, Martha Jackson, was with
her; when one basket was full, Mary sent it home by the little girl,
with directions to come back immediately. The girl did so, but on her
return to the Cedar Swamp, Mary Percival was not to be seen. The basket
which she had retained with her was lying with all the cranberries upset
out of it on a hill by the side of the swamp. The little girl remained
for a quarter of an hour, calling out Miss Percival's name, but not
receiving any answer, she became frightened, imagining that some wild
beast had attacked her; and she ran back as fast as she could to the
house, acquainting Mr. and Mrs. Campbell with what had happened. Martin
and Alfred were at the mill; Malachi, fortunately, was at his own lodge,
and Strawberry ran for him, told him what the girl had reported, and
having done so, she looked at Malachi, and said "Angry Snake."

"Yes, Strawberry, that is the case, I have no doubt," replied Malachi;
"but not a word at present; I knew he would be at something, but I did
not think that he dared do that either; however, we shall see. Go back
to the house, and tell master and misses that I have gone down to the
Cedar Swamp, and will return as soon as possible, and do you follow me
as fast as you can, for your eyes are younger than mine, and I shall
want the use of them: tell them not to send any body else, it will do
harm instead of