Chapter 13

"Thou art, my good youth, my page;
I'll be thy master: walk with me; speak freely."

Cymbeline.

The apartment, in which Ruth had directed the children to be placed, was
in the attic, and, as already stated, on the side of the building which
faced the stream that ran at the foot of the hill. It had a single
projecting window, through which there was a view of the forest and of the
fields on that side of the valley. Small openings in its sides admitted
also of glimpses of the grounds which lay further in the rear. In addition
to the covering of the roofs, and of the massive frame-work of the
building, an interior partition of timber protected the place against the
entrance of most missiles then known in the warfare of the country. During
the infancy of the children, this room had been their sleeping apartment;
nor was it abandoned for that purpose, until the additional outworks,
which increased with time around the dwellings, had emboldened the family
to trust themselves, at night, in situations more convenient, and which
were believed to be no less equally secure against surprise.

"I know thee to be one who feeleth the obligations of a warrior," said
Ruth, as she ushered her follower into the presence of the children. "Thou
wilt not deceive me; the lives of these tender ones are in thy keeping.
Look to them, Miantonimoh, and the Christian's God will remember thee in
thine own hour of necessity!"

The boy made no reply, but in a gentle expression which was visible in his
dark visage, the mother endeavored to find the pledge she sought. Then, as
the youth, with the delicacy of his race, moved aside in order that they
who were bound to each other by ties so near might indulge their feelings
without observation, Ruth again drew near her offspring, with all the
tenderness of a mother beaming in her eyes.

"Once more I bid thee not to look too curiously at the fearful strife that
may arise in front of our habitations," she said. "The heathen is truly
upon us, with bloody mind; young, as well as old, must now show faith in
the protection of our master, and such courage as befitteth believers."

"And why is it, mother," demanded her child, "that they seek to do us
harm? have we ever done evil to them?"

"I may not say. He that hath made the earth hath given it to us for our
uses, and reason would seem to teach that if portions of its surface are
vacant, he that needeth truly, may occupy."

"The savage!" whispered the child, nestling still nearer to the bosom of
her stooping parent. "His eye glittereth like the star which hangs above
the trees."

"Peace, daughter; his fierce