n pretty well, and was a little in advance, when, hearing the
chief speak in an angry tone behind me, I turned round, and, to my
horror, saw him raise his tomahawk, and strike down the poor Indian
woman. I could not refrain from hastening to her; but I had just time to
perceive that her skull was cloven, and that she was, as I imagined,
dead, when I was dragged away and forced to continue my journey. You may
imagine how my blood curdled at this scene, and how great were now my
apprehensions for myself. Why I had been carried away I knew not, for I
was as ignorant as you were of Percival being alive, and of the Young
Otter having been detained at the fort. My idea was, when the chief
struck down the Indian woman, that it was to get rid of her, and that I
was to replace her. This idea was almost madness, but still I had hope,
and I prayed as I walked along to that God who sees the most secret act,
and hears the most silent prayer of the heart, and I felt an assurance
while praying that I should be rescued. I knew that my absence would be
immediately discovered, and that there were those who would risk their
lives to rescue me, if I was still in existence; and I therefore used
all my efforts to walk on as fast as I could, and not irritate the
Indians. But that night I had no one to dress my feet, which were
bleeding and very much swelled, and I was very wretched when I lay down
alone. I could not drive from my thoughts the poor Indian woman
weltering in her blood, and murdered for no crime or fault--nothing that
I could discover. The next morning, as usual, my food was some parched
Indian corn, and of that I received only a handful for my sustenance
during the twenty-four hours; however, hunger I never felt, I had too
much pain. I was able to drag myself on till about noon, when I felt
that I could not proceed further. I stopped and sat down; the chief
ordered me to get up again by signs; I pointed to my feet, which were
now swelled above the ankles, but he insisted, and raised his tomahawk
to frighten me into compliance. I was so worn out, that I could have
almost received the blow with thankfulness, but I remembered you, my
dear uncle and aunt and others, and resolved for your sakes to make one
more effort. I did so; I ran and walked for an hour more in perfect
agony; at last nature could support the pain no longer, and I fell
insensible."

"My poor Mary!" exclaimed Emma.

"I thought of you often and often, my dear sist