CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XII. THE END.

Napyank the hunter and Stoddard Smith stood consulting together.

“We must now hunt the trail,” said the former; “and to do that we’ve got to go some way back into the wood.”

The two set out, and the greater part of the day was consumed in traveling. Toward the middle of the afternoon they struck a trail, which, after following for a mile or so, they became convinced was in seeking, as there did not appear the least evidence of either Teddy or Ruth forming one of the company. Finally when darkness closed around them, they were still at a loss, and decided to encamp until morning.

“Here seems to be as good a spot as any,” said the hunter, halting by the side of a small brook.

“Sh! there is some one ahead of us,” returned young Smith, pointing up stream, where a trembling light could be discerned through the trees.

“Let us see who they might be.”

The two stole cautiously forward. When a few yards away, they gained a glimpse of the party and heard some speaking.

“As I was about to observe when yees interrupted me, we’re now at no great distance from the river, and we’ll reach there in due time, that is if we travel. I s’pose you’ve no ’bjection to seeing your parents jist now.”

“Indeed I can hardly content myself Teddy in remaining here until morning.”

“Yees wouldn’t be particularly angry if yees should meet that young man they calls Smith, I suppose?”

“Certainly not.”

“Arrah! Miss Ruth: there is a great wild beast behind yees.”

Ruth sprang to her feet, and glanced back, and instead of encountering the angry front of some wild animal, she saw—Stoddard Smith and Joe Napyank before her.

* * * * * * *

The next day as McGowan was beginning to grow desponding and hopeless, and had made up his mind to cast the raft loose at nightfall, and risk the attempt to reach the settlement, Joe Napyank and his three companions made their appearance. The wonderful skill of the matchless hunter had led them directly to the spot.

The sacred joy of father and mother, and the restoration of their daughter, of whose deliverance at one time there could scarcely seem the least grounds of hope—was too sacred—too holy for pen like ours to attempt to depict.

The raft was strengthened by the addition of much more material, so that it easily buoyed the entire company; and when it was fairly dark, it came forth from its concealment, and the fugitives committed themselves once more to the treacherous Ohio.

There were yet dangers and perils to be encountered, and it was not until the afternoon of the ensuing day, when the unsightly cabins of the settlement appeared, that the little party breathed freely, and felt that they were at last—_safe_.

The surviving Smiths became identified with this portion of the West, and there are found there their descendants at this day. Joe Napyank fell during Wayne’s celebrated campaign against the western Indians. Teddy O’Donnell lived a bachelor, and, as a matter of course, died at a ripe old age. The grandchildren of Stoddard Smith were those who stood by his bedside during his last moments.

THE END.