“Squaw good—­both squaw good—­Nick see no pale-face squaw he like so much.”

“I thank you, Nick!  This rude tribute to the virtues of my mother and sister, is far more grateful to me than the calculating and regulated condolence of the world.”

“No squaw so good as ole one—­she, all heart—­love every body, but self.”

This was so characteristic of his mother, that Willoughby was startled by the sagacity of the savage, though reflection told him so long an acquaintance with the family must have made a dog familiar with this beautiful trait in his mother.

“And my father, Nick!” exclaimed the major, with feeling—­“my noble, just, liberal, gallant father!—­He, too, you knew well, and must have loved.”

“No so good as squaw,” answered the Tuscarora, sententiously, and not altogether without disgust in his manner.

“We are seldom as good as our wives, and mothers, and sisters, Nick, else should we be angels on earth.  But, allowing for the infirmities of us men, my father was just and gocd.”

“Too much flog”—­answered the savage, sternly—­“make Injin’s back sore.”

This extraordinary speech struck the major less, at the time, than it did, years afterwards, when he came to reflect on all the events and dialogues of this teeming week.  Such was also the case as to what followed.

“You are no flatterer, Tuscarora, as I have always found in our intercourse.  If my father ever punished you with severity, you will allow, me, at least, to imagine it was merited.”

“Too much flog, I say,” interrupted the savage, fiercely.  “No difference, chief or not.  Touch ole sore too rough.  Good, some; bad, some.  Like weather—­now shine; now storm.”

“This is no time to discuss these points, Nick.  You have fought nobly for us, and I thank you.  Without your aid, these beloved ones would have been mutilated, as well as slain; and Maud—­my own blessed Maud—­ might now have been sleeping at their sides.”

Nick’s face was now all softness again, and he returned the pressure of Willoughby’s hand with honest fervor.  Here they separated.  The major hastened to the side of Maud, to fold her to his heart, and console her with his love.  Nick passed into the forest, returning no more to the Hut.  His path led him near the grave.  On the side where lay the body of Mrs. Willoughby, he threw a flower he had plucked in the meadow; while he shook his finger menacingly at the other, which hid the person of his enemy.  In this, he was true to his nature, which taught him never to forget a favour, or forgive an injury.

Chapter XXX.

  “I shall go on through all eternity,
  Thank God, I only am an embryo still: 
  The small beginning of a glorious soul,
  An atom that shall fill immensity.”

  Coxe.

A fortnight elapsed ere Willoughby and his party could tear themselves from a scene that had witnessed so much domestic happiness; but on which had fallen the blight of death.  During that time, the future arrangements of the survivors were completed.  Beekman was made acquainted with the state of feeling that existed between his brother-in-law and Maud, and he advised an immediate union.