On the other hand, if they were her friends, why did they not relieve her?  Now a sudden, but, alas! erroneous thought occurred to her.  She was persuaded that they were her friends, but that the friendly Indian was not with them—­he had perhaps directed them where she could be found, and then returned to his home.  Might not her friends, at that moment, be anxiously searching for her?  Would not one word suffice to dispel their solicitude, and restore the lost one to their arms?  She resolved to speak.  Bowing down her head slightly, so that her precise location might not instantly be ascertained, she uttered in a soft voice the word “FATHER!” The chief sprang from his seat, and the party was instantly in commotion.  Some of the savages looked above, among the twining branches, and some shot their arrows in the snow, but fortunately not in the direction of Mary while others ran about in every direction, examining all the large trees in the vicinity.  The chief was amazed and utterly confounded.  He drew not forth an arrow, nor brandished a tomahawk.  While he thus stood, and the rest of the party were moving hurriedly about, a few paces distant, Mary again repeated the word “FATHER!” As suddenly as if by enchantment every savage was paralyzed.  Each stood as devoid of animation as a statue.  For many moments an intense silence reigned, as if naught existed there but the cheerless forest trees.  Slowly at length, the tomahawk was returned to the belt, and the arrow to the quiver.  No longer was a desire to spill blood manifested.  The dusky children of the forest attributed to the mysterious sound a supernatural agency.  They believed it was a voice from the perennial hunting grounds.  Humbly they bowed their heads, and whispered devotions to the Great Spirit.  The young chief alone stood erect.  He gazed at the round moon above him, and sighs burst from his breast, and burning tears ran down his stained cheek.  Impatiently, by a motion of the hand, he directed the savages to leave him, and when they withdrew he resumed his seat on the fallen trunk, and reclined his brow upon his hand.  One of the long feathers that decked his head waved forward, after he had been seated thus a few minutes, and when his eye rested upon it he started up wildly, and tearing it away, trampled it under his feet.  At that instant the same “FATHER!” was again heard.  The young chief fell upon his knees, and, while he panted convulsively, said, in English, “Father!  Mother!  I’m your poor William—­you loved me much—­where are you?  Oh tell me—­I will come to you—­I want to see you!” He then fell prostrate and groaned piteously.  “Father!  Oh! where are you?”

“Whose voice was that?” said Mary, breaking through the slight incrustation that obscured her, and leaping from her covert.