With these words, he immediately retraced his path, leaving Roland to wonder and speculate at leisure over the singular intermixture of humane and ferocious elements of which his character seemed compounded.  But the speculation was not long indulged; in a few moments Nathan’s footsteps were heard ringing along the arched path, and he again made his appearance, but looking a new man.  His gait was fierce and confident, his countenance bold and expressive of satisfaction.  “Things should never be done by halves,” he muttered, but more as if speaking to his own thoughts than to his companion.

With this brief apology, he again led the way through the forest; but not until Roland had observed, or thought he observed, a drop of blood fall from his tattered knife-sheath to the earth.  But the suspicion that this little incident, coupled with the change in Nathan’s deportment, awoke in Roland’s mind, he had no leisure to pursue, Nathan now striding forward at a pace which soon brought his companion to a painful sense of his own enfeebled and suffering condition.

“Thee must neither faint nor flag,” said Nathan; “thee enemies have the start of thee by a whole day; and they have thee horses also.  Truly, it is my fear, that, with these horses and thee kinswoman, Abel Doe and the man Braxley, thee foeman, may push on for the Injun town with what speed they can, leaving their Injun thieves the footmen, to follow on as they may, or perhaps to strike through the woods for the north side, to join the ramping villains that are there burning and murdering!  Thee must keep up thee strength till night-fall; when thee shall have good meat to eat and a long sleep to refresh thee; and, truly, on the morrow thee will be very well, though a little feverish.”

With such encouragement, repeated time by time as seemed to him needful, Nathan continued to lead through wood and brake, with a vigour and freshness of step that moved the wonder and envy of Roland, who knew that, like himself, Nathan had been without sleep for two nights in succession; besides, having employed the intervening days in the most laborious exertions.  Such an example of untiring energy and zeal, and the reflection that they were displayed in his cause—­in the cause of his hapless Edith—­supported Roland’s own flagging steps; and he followed without murmuring, until the close of the day found him again on the banks of the river that had witnessed so many of his sufferings.  He had been long aware that Nathan had deserted the path of the Piankeshaws; but not doubting his superior knowledge of the woods had led him into a shorter path, he was both surprised and concerned, when, striking the river at last, he found himself in a place entirely unknown, and apparently many miles below the scene of conflict of the previous day.

“He that would follow upon the heels of Wenonga,” said Nathan, “must walk wide of his footsteps, for fear lest he should suddenly tread on the old reptile’s tail.  Thee don’t know the craft of an old Injun that expects to be followed,—­as, truly, it is like the Black-Vulture may expect it now.  Do thee be content, friend; there is more paths to Wenonah’s town than them that Wenonga follows; and, truly, we may gain something by taking the shortest.”