﻿OLD PONTO. 189 



an opportunity of asking news of his son from any of the red peo- 

 ple whom he encountered, for, almost unconsciously to himself, he 

 cherished a hope that Henry might still be living among some tribe 

 of Indians, and that he might yet be restored to him. 



Ponto, who seldom stirred from the house, accompanied his mas- 

 ter in this visit, and was admitted with him to the room where the 

 Indians were confined. But here Ponto, usually so sedate and 

 solemn, seemed reanimated with a spirit of youth, for, jumping upon 

 one of the prisoners, he began to lick his face and neck, uttering 

 short yelps of joy and recognition. Mr. Morton, very much sur- 

 prised, exclaimed, " Down, Ponto ! Down, sir." At these words the 

 young man turned quickly round and looked earnestly at the dog. 

 Then turning to his companion, an old chief, he addressed some 

 words to him in a melancholy voice, to which the other returned no 

 answer ; but as the dog continued bounding upon the young man, he 

 took hold of one of his legs and attentively examined it. At last 

 he uttered an exclamation, and pointing to a small scar, asked some 

 question of the young man, whom he called Mah-to-chee-go. Mah- 

 to-chee-go clasped his hands over his eyes for a moment, and then 

 kneeling down before the chief, he seemed to be earnestly asking 

 something of him. 



Mr. Morton was regarding this singular scene with deep interest. 

 He felt an unaccountable yearning towards the young Indian, but 

 knew not how to express it. At last the old chief seemed to assent 

 to the prayer of Mah-to-chee-go, and standing up, he commanded 

 silence by an expressive gesture of his hand, and by the aid of an 

 interpreter told to Mr. Morton the story which no doubt you all have 

 guessed. He was the chief who had stolen Henry, or Mah-to-chee- 

 go, as he was called. He had brought him up as his own son, and 

 to complete his education as a brave, had brought him on a war-path 

 against the white men. But, as he said, " The Great Spirit had 

 frowned upon his children," and he had taken it as an indication that 

 it was displeasing to him that the son of the white man should dwell 

 longer in the wigwam of the savage ; and he was willing to restore 

 the boy as a peace-offering to the offended Great Spirit. 



I will not attempt to describe the joy with which Mr. Morton re- 

 ceived again his long lost child. The old chief and all his party 



