“They must be friends then,” exclaimed the girl, springing up and clapping her hands.

“Dey’re comin’—­hear ’em.”

The dull tramp, tramp of men walking in regular file was distinctly audible to all, and while they listened, a clear, musical voice called out: 

“This way, boys, we’ve a long tramp before we reach that infernal Indian town.”

“Your father, as I live!” whispered the soldier to the girl beside him.  The next moment, the blue uniform of an officer of the Federal army was distinguished through the trees, and the manly form of Captain Prescott, at the head of a file of a dozen men, came into full view.

“Hello! what have we here?” he asked, suddenly stopping and looking at the company before him.  “Why there’s Lieutenant Canfield as sure as I am alive, and if that ain’t my dear little daughter yonder, I hope I may never lift my sword for Mad Anthony again.  And there’s Oonomoo, the best red-man that ever pulled the trigger of a rifle, with a little pocket edition of himself, and grinning Cato too!  Why don’t you come to the arms of your father, sis, and let him hug you?”

This unexpected meeting with his loved daughter, when his worst fears were aroused for her safety, caused the revulsion of feeling in Captain Prescott, and his pleasantry is perhaps excusable when all the circumstances are considered.  The tears of joy coursed down the gray-headed soldier’s cheeks as he pressed his cherished daughter to his bosom, and murmured, “God bless you!  God bless you!” while the hardy soldiers ranged behind him smiled, and several rubbed their eyes as if dust had gotten in them.

“Is mother and sister well?” asked the daughter, looking up in her father’s face.

“Yes, well, but anxious enough about you.”

“Our house and place is destroyed forever.”

“Who cares, sis?  Who cares?  Haven’t I you left?  Don’t mention it.”

“But the servants!  All were killed except poor Cato there.”

“Ah! that is bad! that is bad!  I mourn them, poor fellows! poor fellows!  But I have my own darling child left! my own darling child!” and the overjoyed father again pressed his daughter to him.

“But what am I about?” he suddenly asked, with a surprised look.  “I haven’t spoken to the others here.  Lieutenant, allow me to congratulate you, sir, on this happy state of affairs.  I congratulate you, sir.”

Captain Prescott had a way of repeating his remarks, while his radiant face was all aglow with his hearty good-humor, that was irresistibly contagious in itself.  His jovial kindness won every heart, and he was almost idolized by his men.

“A happy turn, indeed; but, Captain, I am somewhat surprised to see you here,” said Lieutenant Canfield as he grasped the offered hand.

“Ah! yes, I haven’t explained that yet; but the fact is, Lieutenant, you hadn’t been gone two hours—­not two hours—­when the General told me I was to take charge of the garrison at the settlement, where my wife and daughter now are.  I wasn’t sorry to hear that—­not sorry to hear that, and as you were to be Lieutenant, I didn’t think it would be unpleasant to you either to be located so near our family—­not unpleasant at all, eh, Lieutenant?”