“Your name!” continued the other, as he sprang to the ground.

“Names don’t matter, stranger, in cases sech as this.  I said I war a friend.”

“By what may I know you as such.”

“My deeds,” returned the other, laconically.  “Think you, stranger, ef I wanted to harm ye, I couldn’t have done it without you seeing me?” and as he spoke, he glanced significantly toward his rifle.

“True,” returned the other; “but what’s the meaning of this?” and he pointed toward the dead horse.

“It means Indians, as nigh as I can come at it,” replied the hunter.  “But look to the living afore the dead!” And the woodsman in turn pointed toward the lady.

“Right!” said the other; and springing to her side, he raised her in his arms.

She was not injured, other than slightly stunned by the fall, and she quickly regained her senses.  At first she was somewhat alarmed; but perceiving who supported her, and nothing in the mild, noble, benevolent countenance of the stranger, who was still holding her horse by the bridle, of a sinister nature, she anxiously inquired what had happened.

“I can only guess by what I see;” answered the hunter, “that some o’ your company have been less fortunate than you.  Didn’t two o’ them set out in advance?”

“Gracious heavens!” cried the young man supporting the lady; “it is Ella Barnwell and the stranger Reynolds!”

“Then they must be quickly trailed!” rejoined the hunter briefly.  “Go, young man, take your lady back agin, and raise an armed party for pursuit.  Be quick in your operations, and I’ll wait and join you here.  Leave your horses thar, for we must take it afoot; and besides, gather as much provision as you can all easily carry, for Heaven only knows whar or when our journey’ll end.”

“But do you think they’re still living?”

“I hope so.”

“Then let us return, Henry,” said the lady, “as quick as possible, so that a party for pursuit may be collected before the wedding guests have all separated.”

“I fear it will be difficult, Mary, but we must try it,” replied the young man, as he assisted her to mount.  Then, turning to the stranger, he added:  “But won’t you accompany us, sir?”

“No, it can do no good; besides I’m afoot, and would only cause delay, and thar’s been too much o’ that already.”

“At least, sir, favor me with your name.”

“The first white hunter o’ old Kaintuck,” answered the other, stroking the neck of the fiery beast on which the lady was now sitting.

“What!” exclaimed the other, in a tone of surprise:  “Boone!  Colonel Daniel Boone?”

“Why, I’m sometimes called colonel,” returned the hunter, dryly, still stroking the horse’s neck; “but Daniel’s the older title, and a little the most familiar one besides.”

“I crave pardon for my former rudeness, Colonel,” said the other, advancing and offering his hand; “but you were a stranger to me you know.”