“Alas,” said Roland, almost fearing from the impetuosity, as well as confidence, with which Nathan now spoke, that his wits were in a state of distraction, “where shall we look for help, since there are none but ourselves in this desert, of whom to ask it?”

“From our two selves it must come, and from none others,” said Nathan, briskly.  “We will follow the murdering thieves that have robbed thee of thee treasure, and we will recover the maid Edith from their hands.”

“What! unaided? alone?”

“Alone, friend, with little Peter to be our guide, and Providence our hope and our stay.  Thee is a man of courage, and thee heart will not fail thee, even if thee should find theeself led into the heart of the Injun nation.  I have thought of this thing, friend, and I perceive there is good hope we shall prevail, and prevail better than if we had an hundred men to follow at our backs; unless we had them ready with us, to march this very day.  Does thee hear me, friend?  The Shawnee fighting-men are now in Kentucky, assembled in a great army, scalping and murdering as they come:  their villages are left to be guarded by women and children and old men no longer fit for war.  Thee understands me?  If thee waits till thee collects friends, thee will have to cut thee way with them through fighting-men returned to their villages before thee; if thee proceeds as thee is, thee has nothing to fear that thee cannot guard against with thee own cunning,—­nothing to oppose thee that thee cannot conquer with thee own strength and courage.”

“And how,” cried Roland, too ardent of temper, too ready to snatch at any hope, to refuse his approbation to the enterprise, though its difficulties immediately crowded before his eyes, “how shall we follow a trail so long and cold? where shall we find arms? where—­”

“Friend,” said Nathan, interrupting him, “thee speaks without thought.  For arms and ammunition, thee has thee choice among the spoils of these dead villains, thee captivators.  For the trail, thee need think nothing of that:  lost or found, thee may be certain it leads to the old Vulture’s town on the Miami:  there thee will find thee cousin, and thither I can lead thee.”

“Let us go then, in Heaven’s name,” cried Roland, “and without further delay; every moment is precious.”

“Thee speaks the truth; and if thee feels thee limbs strong enough—­”

“They are nerved by hope; and while that remains, I will neither faint nor falter.  Edith rescued, and one blow—­one good blow struck at the villain that wrongs her;—­then let them fail me, if Heaven wills it, and fail me for ever!”

Few more words were required to confirm Roland’s approval of the project so boldly, and indeed, as it seemed, so judiciously advised by his companion.  To seek assistance was, as Nathan had justly said, to cast away the opportunity which the absence of the warriors from their towns opened to his hopes,—­an opportunity in which craft and stratagem might well obtain the success not to be won, at a later period, and after the return of the marauders, even by a band of armed men.