Oriana snatched her now smiling boy from Mailah’s arms, and embraced him with a fervency and emotion that showed how little she had hoped to see his face again.  But her own happy and grateful feelings were painfully interrupted by her friend’s exclamation of agony—­

‘Where is my Lincoya?’ she cried.  ’Did he not follow with you?  I saw him close to me when I paused to take your child:  and he is not here!  O, my Lincoya! my brave, my beautiful boy!  Have you perished in the flames, with none to help you?’ And she broke forth into cries and lamentations that wrung the heart of Oriana.

She could give her no tidings of the lost youth, for she knew not whose fainting forms she had passed in the narrow shrouded path; and it was utterly impossible now to go and seek him, for the flames had followed hard upon their flight, and were still raging over the mass of dry herbage, and consuming even the scattered tufts that grew among the stones at the entrance to the ravine.  So intense was the heat of the glowing surface, even after the blaze had died away, that it would not be practicable to pass over it for many hours; and the party, who had reached a place of safety, were compelled to make arrangements for passing the night where they were, not only that they might be ready to seek the remains of their lost friends the next morning, but also because their own weary limbs, and those of their trembling horses, refused to carry them any further.  All the provisions and other baggage, which they had carried for their journey, had been abandoned in the flight, end had become a rapid prey to the devouring flames.  But several of the scorched and affrighted prairie fowls, and a few hares—­ exhausted with their long race—­were easily secured by the young hunters, end afforded a supper to the weary company.

The horses were then turned loose to find fodder for themselves, and to drink at the little brook that still trickled among the rocks; and large fires having been lighted to scare the wild beasts that, like our travelers, had been driven for refuge to the ravine, all lay down to sleep, thankful to the deities in whom they respectively trusted, for their preservation in such imminent peril.

Fervent were the prayers and praises that were offered up that night by the little band of Christians, among whom Henrich always officiated as minister:  and even the distressed spirit of Mailah was comforted and calmed as she joined in his words of thanksgiving, and in his heartfelt petitions that the lost Lincoya might yet be restored to his parents; or that, if his spirit had already passed away from earth, it might have been purified by faith, and received into the presence of its God and Savior.

Mailah was tranquilized; but her grief and anxiety were not removed:  and she passed that sad night in sleepless reflection on the dreadful fate of her only child, and in sincere endeavors so to realize and apply all the blessed truths she had learnt from Henrich, as to derive from them that comfort to her own soul, and that perfect resignation to the will of God, that she well knew they were designed to afford to the Christian believer.  And that night of watchfulness did not pass unprofitably to Mailah’s spirit.