"
"Place hopes on Him--He do it, may be."
Never, to his dying day, did Lieutenant Canfield forget the rebuke of
that Huron Indian. As he uttered these words he pointed upward--a
flood of moonlight, streaming down through the trees upon his upturned
face, rested like a halo of glory upon his bronzed brow. Years
afterward, when Oonomoo had been gathered to his fathers, and
Lieutenant Canfield was an old man, he asserted that he could hear
those words as distinctly, and see that reverential expression as
plainly as upon that memorable night.
"You are right, Oonomoo." said the Lieutenant, "and I feel the reproof
you have given me. The merciful God is the only one upon whom we can
rely, and under Him it is upon your sagacity and skill that I depend."
"Dat so--we go purty soon."
After resting a half-hour, the two moved forward at a much slower rate
than before. As the moon ascended, its light was so clear and
unobstructed that in the open spots in the woods he could easily have
read a printed page. For a night of reconnoitering and action it
possessed all the advantages and disadvantages of a clear day. The
Huron almost invariably held his peace when walking, and the young
soldier did not attempt to disturb him upon the present occasion. From
his remarks, he gathered that it was his wish to reach the neighborhood
of the Shawnee village in a few hours, and wait until daylight before
attempting to accomplish anything.
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