Before many minutes elapsed another sound of quite a different character saluted their ears.  This was a rustling among the bushes, heard indistinctly at first, while the object was far up the valley, but as it approached with fearful rapidity, the rushing noise became tremendous, and a few moments after, when the trembling sumachs parted in view, they beheld Joe!  He dashed through the briers interspersed among the undergrowth, and plunged through the winding brook that occasionally crossed his path, as if all surrounding obstacles and obstructions were contemptible in comparison with the danger behind!  Leaping over intervening rocks, and flying through dense clusters of young trees that ever and anon threatened to impede his progress, he at length reached the spot where the little group still remained seated.  Without hat or coat, and panting so violently that he was unable to explain distinctly the cause of his alarm, poor Joe threw himself down on the earth in the most distressed and pitiable condition.

“What have you seen?  What is the cause of this affright?” asked Glenn.

“I—­oh—­they—­coming!” cried Joe, incoherently.

“What is coming?” continued Glenn.

“I—­Indians!” exclaimed he, springing up and rushing into the house.

“They are friendly Indians, then,” said Mary; “because the hostile ones never come upon us at this season of the year.”

“So I have been told,” said Glenn; “but even the sight of a friendly Indian would scare Joe.”

“It is La-u-na!” said William, still attentively listening.

“What is La-u-na?” interrogated Mary, again.

“The Trembling Fawn!” repeated William, with emphasis, in a mysterious and abstracted manner.  Presently he stood up and intently regarded the dim path over-shadowed by the luxuriant foliage that Joe had so recently traversed, and an animated smile played upon his lips, and dark, clear eyes sparkled with a thrill of ecstasy.

A slight female form, emerged from the dark green thicket, and glided more like a spirit of the air than a human being towards the wondering group.  Her light steps produced no sound.  In each hand she held a rich bouquet of fresh wild flowers, and leaves and blossoms were fantastically, though tastefully, arranged in her hair and on her breast.  A broad, shining gold band decked her temples, but many of her raven ringlets had escaped from their confinement, and floated out on the wind as she sped towards her beloved.

“La-u-na!  La-u-na!” cried William, darting forward frantically and catching the girl in his arms.  He pressed her closely and fondly to his heart, and she hid her face on his breast.  Thus they clung together several minutes in silence, when they were interrupted by Roughgrove, whose attention had been attracted by the sudden affright of Joe.

“William, my dear boy,” said the grieved old man, “you must not have any thing to do with the Indians—­you promised us that you would not—­”