“Tell him I am hopeful.”

“Ain’t dere notting else to tell him?” asked Hans Vanderbum, still lingering.

“I know of nothing else.  He certainly needs no advice from me.”

“Notting to send to Lieutenant Canfield, eh?” again queried Hans.

“Tell Oonomoo,” said the girl, looking down to the earth, “that if he meets Lieutenant Canfield to say the same thing to him for me, that I am waiting and hopeful, and have a good friend constantly by me, which lightens, in a great measure, the gloom of my captivity.”

“Who ish dat friend?”

“You.”

“Yaw, I tells him.  Good-by; be a good gal till I comes back.  I bees back burty soon.”

So saying, Hans passed out of the wigwam on his way to return to Oonomoo.  His prolonged conversation with Miss Prescott had attracted the attention of the Indians who were lingering outside, and several asked him its purport.  To these he invariably replied, “she didn’t know wheder it was going for to rain or not, but she fought it would do one or toder.”

From his long residence among the Shawnees and his family connection with them, Hans Vanderbum was not suspected of disaffection.  Indeed, it could not properly be said that he felt thus toward them.  He would not willingly do anything to injure them any more than he would have fought against his own race.  Had he been dwelling among the whites, he would have befriended any hapless prisoner that might be in their power as he intended to befriend the poor girl with whom he had just been conversing.

It was about noon when he reached his own wigwam.  He looked in, and seeing that the fish had been cooked and was ready, told his wife that he didn’t feel very hungry and he guessed he would take a short walk for his health.  She, however, ordered him at once to take his place inside and eat his dinner.  The henpecked husband dared not refuse, and he was accordingly compelled to take part in the meal, while constantly occupied in thinking that the Huron was waiting for him; but, as patience is one of the cardinal virtues of the North American Indian, Hans was sure of finding him at the rendezvous upon his return.

Some twenty minutes later, Hans Vanderbum was at the tree, where he had first caught sight of Oonomoo.  It was not long before the latter came from his concealment, and, after exchanging words upon unimportant subjects, for the purpose of concealing his curiosity, he inquired in regard to Miss Prescott.

“She tells me to tell you dat she’s dere, and is hopeful, and ain’t hurt, and hopes you won’t hurt yourself to git her away.”

“Oonomoo won’t hurt his self—­Shawnee won’t hurt Oonomoo—­he git gal away too.”

“Oh, I like for to forgot.  She tells me ’bout Lieutenant Canfield de same as she tells you.  Will you see him?”

“See him dis mornin’—­waitin’ in woods fur me—­see him ’gin—­tell what gal said.”