Peshewa started, and his eyes flashed fire, as he said, with great energy:  “Does the wolf mate with his hunter, that you ask a chief of the Great Spirit’s red children to mate with their white destroyer?”

“Then do with her what you ——­ please,” rejoined Girty, throwing in an oath.  “I was only jesting, Peshewa.  But come, we must be on the move! for this last job will not be long a secret; and then we shall have the Long Knives after us as hot as h——­l.  We must divide our party.  I will take with me these last prisoners and six warriors, and you the others.  A quarter of a mile below here we will separate and break our trail in the stream; you and your party by going up a piece—­I and mine by going down.  This will perplex them, and give us time.  Make your trail conspicuous, Peshewa, and I will be careful to leave none whatever, if I can help it; for, by ——!  I must be sure to escape with my prisoners.  If you are close pressed, you can brain and scalp yours; but for some important reasons, I want mine to live.  We will meet, my noble Peshewa, at the first bend of the Big Miama.”

The Indian heard him through, without moving a muscle of his seemingly blank features, and then answered, a little haughtily: 

“Kitchokema[7] plans all, and gives his red brother all the danger; but Peshewa is brave, and fears not.”

“And do you think it’s through fear?” asked Girty, angrily.

“Peshewa makes no charges against his brother,” answered Wild-cat, quietly.

“Perhaps it is as well he don’t,” rejoined Girty, in an under tone, knitting his brows; and then quickly added:  “Come, Peshewa, let us move; for while we tarry, we are giving time to our white foes.”

Thus ended the conference; and in a few minutes after the whole party was in motion.  Following the course of the waters down to the base of the hills, they came to a sloping hollow of some considerable extent, where the stream ran shallow over a smooth, beautiful bed.  Into this latter the whole company now entered, for the purpose of breaking the trail, as previously arranged by Girty; and here they divided, according to his former plan also.

If the unhappy prisoners regretted meeting one another in distress, their parting regrets were an hundred fold more poignant; for to them it seemed evidently the last time they would ever behold on earth each others faces; and this thought alone was enough to dim the eyes of Ella and her adopted mother with burning tears, and shake their frames with heart-rending sobs of anguish; while the old man and Algernon, though both strove to be stoical, could not look on unmoved to a similar show of grief.  Since their meeting, the captives had managed to converse together sufficiently to learn the manner of each others capture, and give each other some hope of being successfully followed and released by their friends; but now, when they saw the caution displayed by their enemies in breaking