except
that I feel we had all ought to join in thankin' our Heavenly Father
for deliverin' us from our enemies an' bringin' us together again."

With hearts full of gratitude, the young hunters sat with bowed heads
while the kindly old sailor offered up a simple, fervent prayer of
thanksgiving for the mercies they had received from the One who heeds
even the sparrow's fall.

"Thar's one thing more to tell you, an' then I'm through," said the
captain, breaking the thoughtful silence that had followed the prayer.
"The chief seemed to set great store by you, Charley. I reckon it came
from your savin' his life at the risk of your own. Anyway, he spoke
right often of the 'young white chief', as he called you, an' once he
said you should be honored with riches. Not an hour before he died, he
gave me this an' charged me to give it to you."

Charley took with wonder the object the captain handed him. It was a
piece of exquisitely dressed doe-skin about six inches square. On the
smooth side was traced in a reddish sort of ink a kind of rude sketch
of a lone palm tree, amongst the leaves of which a large bird was
perched. Resting against the foot of the palm was an object that bore
a faint resemblance to a paddle.

"It is sign language, but I cannot make out what it means," said
Charley in perplexity. "I wonder why he wanted me to have it and what
he wanted me to do with it."

"I've puzzled over it some myself," said the captain slowly, "an' I
can't make anythin' out of it. From what the chief let fall from time
to time, though, I gathered he wanted to make you a valuable present,
an' I've been kinder thinkin' that picture tells what an' where it is."

Charley folded the piece of doe-skin and put it carefully away in an
inner pocket. "I will try to find out what it means when my head is
clearer," he said. "Just now, all I can think of is something to eat."

"And you shall have something to eat right off," said the captain,
heartily, "it's about time for supper anyway. Hustle up, Chris, an'
get them fish cleaned. I reckon it won't hurt the lad to have a bit of
solid food, now, providin' it's well cooked."

The sun was just setting when the captain and Chris reappeared bearing
gourds full of smoking fish, and sweet sugary yams, and ears of curious
small kernelled Indian corn.

The boys made merry over the delicious meal, but a curious constraint
seemed to rest upon the captain and Chris. Once Walter surprised