THE AMERICANS AND THE ABORIGINES. 297 



The Indian drew his knife, i*pon which fresh blood- 

 stains were visible, and cast ar. ominous glance towards 

 the bed. 



"We will take care of it; no one shall hear of 

 it ! " screamed the horror-struck woman. The Indian 

 calmly replaced the knife in his girdle, and again 

 spoke. 



" The throats of the red men are dry," said he. 



A muttering was heard behind the curtains of the 

 bed, sounding not unlike the Christian wish that 

 every drop the bloodhounds swallowed might prove 

 poison to them ; the host, however, whose humanity 

 was less vindictive than that of his wife, hastened to 

 the bar to comply with his guest's demand. The 

 chief drank a half-gill of whisky at a draught, and 

 then passed the glass to his neighbour. When, a 

 sixth bottle had been emptied, he suddenly rose, 

 threw a Spanish gold-piece upon the table, opened 

 the curtains of the bed, and hung a string of corals, 

 which he took from his wampum girdle, round the 

 neck of the child. 



" The red men will know the daughter of a warrior," 

 said he, fixing his eyes upon the infant, which now 

 lay wrapped in flannel upon the bosom of the hostess. 

 He gave a second glance at woman and child, and 

 then passing silently out at the door, disappeared with 

 his companions in the darkness. 



"The hurricane is over," said the tavern-keeper, 

 who had followed the Indians with his eyes as they 



