Vexation and anger were expressed by the savages in being thus disappointed.  They hoped to wreak their vengeance on the whites, and had resolved to recapture the maiden.  Where they expected to find them, the scene was silent and desolate.  And they now sauntered about under the trees in the partial light of the moon that struggled through the matted branches, threatening in the most horrid manner the one who had thus baffled them.  Some struck their tomahawks into the trunks of trees, while others brandished their knives, and uttered direful yells.  The young chief stood in silence, with his arms folded on his breast.  A small ray of light that fell upon his face exhibited a meditative brow, and features expressing both firmness and determination.  He had said that the captive should be regained, and his followers ever and anon regarded his thoughtful attitude with the confidence that his decision would accelerate the accomplishment of their desires.  Long he remained thus, motionless and dignified, and no one dared to address him. [He had been elected chief by acclamation, after the death of Raven.  He was not an Osage by birth, but had been captured from one of the neighbouring tribes (the Pawnee) when only six years old.  His bravery, as he grew up, had elicited the admiration of the whole tribe, and it had long been settled that he should succeed Raven.  His complexion was many degrees lighter than that of the Osages, or even that of the Pawnees, and had it not been for the paint and stains with which the warriors decorate their faces, he might have passed, if properly attired, for an American.  When taken in battle he was saved from the torture by a young Indian maiden.  She procured his release and he refused to return to his own nation.  He said that he was no Pawnee, and when asked to what nation he belonged, he either could not or would not reply, but said he was satisfied to hunt and fight with any tribe, and if the chief would give him his daughter (the one that saved his life,) he would be an Osage.  It was done, and his brave exploits soon won for him the title of the “Young Eagle.”]

The young chief called one of the oldest of the party, who was standing a few paces distant absorbed in thought, to his side, and after a short conference the old savage prostrated himself on the snow, and endeavoured like a hound to scent the tracks of his recreant brother.  At first he met with no success, but when making a wide circuit round the premises, still applying his nose to the ground occasionally, and minutely examining the bushes, he paused abruptly, and announced to the party that he had found the precise direction taken by the maid and her deliverer.  Instantly they all clustered round him, evincing the most intense interest.  Some smelt the surface of the snow, and others examined the bushes.  Small twigs, not larger than pins, were picked up and closely scrutinized.  They well knew that any one passing through the frozen