“Put out the light,” she whispered in English.

The candle was quickly snuffed and then: 

“I am the Little White Birch,” she said.  “You and my beautiful young brave were good to me.  You took me to the school and he kissed my cheek and spoke words like the song of the little brown bird of the forest.  I have come here to warn you.  Turn away from the great camp of the red man.  Make your feet go fast.  The young warriors are drunk.  They will come here to slay you.  I say go like the rabbit when he is scared.  Before daylight, put half a sleep between you and them.”

Solomon called Jack and in the darkness they quickly got ready to go.  The Dutchman could give them only a loaf of bread, some salt and a slab of bacon.  The squaw stood on the door-step watching while they were getting ready.  Snow was falling.

“They are near,” she whispered when the men came out.  “I have heard them.”

She held Jack’s hand to her lips and said: 

“Let me feel your face.  I can not see it.  I shall see it not again this side of the Happy Hunting-Grounds.”

For a second she touched the face of the young man and he kissed her forehead.

“This way,” she whispered.  “Now go like the snow in the wind, my beautiful pale face.”

“Can we help you?” Jack queried.  “Will you go with us back to the white man’s school?”

“No, I am old woman now.  I have taken the yoke of the red man.  In the Happy Hunting-Grounds maybe the Great Spirit will give me a pale face.  Then I will go with my father and his people and my beautiful young brave will take me to his house and not be ashamed.  Go now.  Good-by.”

“Little White Birch, I give you this,” said Jack, as he put in her hand the tail of the great gray wolf, beautifully adorned with silver braid and blue ribbands.

It was snowing hard.  Jack and Solomon started toward a belt of timber east of the log inn.  Before they reached it, their clothes were white with snow—­a fact which probably saved their lives.  They were shot at from the edge of the bush.  Solomon shouted to Jack to come on and wisely ran straight toward the spot from which the rifle flashes had proceeded.  In the edge of the woods, Jack shot an Indian with his pistol.  The red man was loading.  So they got through what appeared to be a cordon around the house and cut into the bush.

“They won’t foller us,” said Solomon, as the two stopped presently to put on their snow-shoes.

“What makes you think so ?”

“They don’t keer to see us lessen they’re hid.  We are the Son o’ the Thunder an’ the Brother o’ Death.  It would hurt to see us.  The second our eyes drop on an Injun, he’s got a hole in his guts an’ they know it.  They’d ruther go an’ set down with a jug o’ rum.”

“It was a low and devilish trick to bring fire-water into that camp,” said Jack.

“Guy Johnson is mean enough to steal acorns from a blind hog,” Solomon answered.