"Dey're comin'--hear 'em."
The dull tramp, tramp of men walking in regular file was distinctly
audible to all, and while they listened, a clear, musical voice called
out:
"This way, boys, we've a long tramp before we reach that infernal
Indian town."
"Your father, as I live!" whispered the soldier to the girl beside him.
The next moment, the blue uniform of an officer of the Federal army was
distinguished through the trees, and the manly form of Captain
Prescott, at the head of a file of a dozen men, came into full view.
"Hello! what have we here?" he asked, suddenly stopping and looking at
the company before him. "Why there's Lieutenant Canfield as sure as I
am alive, and if that ain't my dear little daughter yonder, I hope I
may never lift my sword for Mad Anthony again. And there's Oonomoo,
the best red-man that ever pulled the trigger of a rifle, with a little
pocket edition of himself, and grinning Cato too! Why don't you come
to the arms of your father, sis, and let him hug you?"
This unexpected meeting with his loved daughter, when his worst fears
were aroused for her safety, caused the revulsion of feeling in Captain
Prescott, and his pleasantry is perhaps excusable when all the
circumstances are considered. The tears of joy coursed down the
gray-headed soldier's cheeks as he pressed his cherished daughter to
his bosom, and murmured, "God bless you! God bless you!" while the
hardy soldiers ranged behind him smiled, and several rubbed their eyes
as if dust had gotten in them.
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