sorry then for the deed he had done; he thought of the grief of the poor widow, and how it would be possible for her to live until she could reach her tribe, who were far, far distant, at the foot of the Rocky Mountains; and now to feel, that, through his means, too, she had lost her child, put thoughts into his mind that had never before found a place there.  He thought that one God had formed the red man as well as the white—­of the souls of the many Indians hurried into eternity by his unerring rifle; and they, perhaps, were more fitted for their “happy hunting grounds,” than he for the white man’s heaven.  In this state of mind, every word his wife had said to him seemed a reproach, and he was glad again to be alone, in the forest, with his rifle and his hounds.

The afternoon of the third day after Tom’s departure, as Susan was sitting at work, she heard something scratching and whining at the door.  Nero, who was by her side, evinced no signs of anger, but ran to the door, showing his white teeth, as was his custom when pleased.  Susan unbarred it, when, to her astonishment, the two deerhounds her husband had taken with him, walked into the hut, looking weary and soiled.  At first she thought Tom might have killed a deer not far from home, and had brought her a fresh supply of venison; but no one was there.  She rushed from the hut, and soon, breathless and terrified, reached the squatter’s cabin.  John Wilton and his three sons were just returned from the clearings, when Susan ran into their comfortable kitchen; her long, black hair, streaming on her shoulders, and her wild and bloodshot eyes, gave her the appearance of a maniac.  In a few unconnected words, she explained to them the cause of her terror, and implored them to set off immediately in search of her husband.  It was in vain they told her of the uselessness of going at that time—­of the impossibility of following a trail in the dark.  She said she would go herself:  she felt sure of finding him; and, at last, they were obliged to use force to prevent her leaving the house.

The next morning at daybreak, Wilton and his two sons were mounted, and ready to set out, intending to take Nero with them; but nothing could induce him to leave his mistress:  he resisted passively for some time, until one of the young men attempted to pass a rope round his neck, to drag him away:  then his forbearance vanished, and he sprang upon his tormentor, threw him down, and would have strangled him, if Susan had not been present.  Finding it impossible to make Nero accompany them, they left without him, but had not proceeded many miles before he and his mistress were at their side.  They begged Susan to return; told her of the inconvenience she would be to them.  It was no avail; she had but one answer,—­“I am a hunter’s daughter, and a hunter’s wife.”  She told them that, knowing how useful Nero would be to them in their search, she had secretly taken a horse and followed them.