"Wetzel cannot go there, so I'll take you all in my canoe."
"There's no room; I'll wait," replied Joe, quietly. Jim noted his
look--a strange, steady glance it was--and then saw him fix his eyes
upon Nell, watching her until the canoe passed around the
green-bordered bend in the stream.
Unmistakable signs of an Indian town were now evident. Dozens of
graceful birchen canoes lay upon the well-cleared banks; a log
bridge spanned the stream; above the slight ridge of rising ground
could be seen the poles of Indian teepees.
As the canoe grated upon the sandy beach a little Indian boy, who
was playing in the shallow water, raised his head and smiled.
"That's an Indian boy," whispered Kate.
"The dear little fellow!" exclaimed Nell.
The boy came running up to them, when they were landed, with
pleasure and confidence shining in his dusky eyes. Save for tiny
buckskin breeches, he was naked, and his shiny skin gleamed
gold-bronze in the sunlight. He was a singularly handsome child.
"Me--Benny," he lisped in English, holding up his little hand to
Nell.
The action was as loving and trusting as any that could have been
manifested by a white child. Jonathan Zane stared with a curious
light in his dark eyes; Mr. Wells and Jim looked as though they
doubted the evidence of their own sight.
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