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"He used to be so when I knew him," returned the preacher, "and I dare say the twenty years that have passed since then have not changed him much, for he is a good deal younger than I am about the same age, I should suppose, as my old friend Whitewing."
Seated astride of this animal, in gentleman fashion, the mother of Whitewing swayed gently to and fro like a partially revived mummy of an amiable type, with her devoted son on one side and Little Tim on the other, to guard against accidents.
I wish Stanhope hadn't been such a beast! At that moment, too late to avoid her, Lady Northmoor, pale and anxious, came up the path and was upon them. 'Your uncle is asleep, she began, but then, starting, 'Oh, Conny. Poor Whitewing. Did you find him? Constance hung her head and did not speak. Then her aunt saw how it was.
"Here is a leader on whom you can depend; I know him well," said Whitewing, pointing to the warrior who had brought the news from the camp. "He is a stranger to you, but has been long in my band, and was left by me in the camp to help to guard it in our absence.
It's useless," he exclaimed. "I might as well run after a streak o' greased lightnin'. Well, well, women have much to answer for! Who'd iver have thowt to see Whitewing shook off his balance like that? It strikes me I'll sarve him best by lookin' after the nags."
It was a sad but interesting council that was held in the little fortress of "Tim's Folly" the day following that on which the grizzly bear was captured. The wounded missionary, lying in Big Tim's bed, presided. Beside him, with an expression of profound sorrow on his fine face, sat Whitewing, the prairie chief. Little Tim and his big son sat at his feet.
Without a word Brighteyes turned her horse's head towards the camp, and was about to ride humbly away when Little Tim interfered. "Hold on, girl! I say, Whitewing, she's not so far wrong. Many a time has woman rendered good service in warfare. She's well mounted, and might ride back with a message or something o' that sort. You'd better let her come."
Meanwhile Lightheart, easily understanding her friend's motives, crept in a serpentine fashion to the hillock, where she soon found Whitewing to the intense but unexpressed joy of that valiant red man. "Will Leetil Tim go back with Lightheart to the horses and wait, while his brother remains here?" said the young chief.
Whitewing did not speak at once, but his reining up at the moment his friend broke silence showed that he too had observed the signs.
It was on this expedition that Little Tim had set forth when Whitewing was expected to arrive at Tim's Folly as the little hut or fortress had come to be named and it was the anxiety of his friends and kindred at his prolonged absence which resulted, as we have seen, in the formation and departure of a search expedition.
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