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scout round some； while I go up； an' then circle down。 Move slow； now； an'
don't miss nothin'。〃
Joe followed the stream a mile or more。 He kept close in the shade of willows；
and never walked across an open glade without first waiting and watching。 He
listened to all sounds； but none were unfamiliar。 He closely examined the sand
along the stream； and the moss and leaves under the trees。 When he had been
separated from Wetzel several hours； and concluded he would slowly return to
camp； he ran across a well…beaten path winding through the forest。 This was；
perhaps； one of the bridle…trails Wetzel had referred to。 He bent over the
worn grass with keen scrutiny。
CRACK！
The loud report of a heavily charged rifle rang out。 Joe felt the zip of a
bullet as it fanned his cheek。 With an agile leap he gained the shelter of a
tree； from behind which he peeped to see who had shot at him。 He was just in
time to detect the dark form of an Indian dart behind the foliage an hundred
yards down the path。 Joe expected to see other Indians； and to hear more
shots； but he was mistaken。 Evidently the savage was alone； for the tree Joe
had taken refuge behind was scarcely large enough to screen his body； which
disadvantage the other Indians would have been quick to note。
Joe closely watched the place where his assailant had disappeared； and
presently saw a dark hand； then a naked elbow； and finally the ramrod of a
rifle。 The savage was reloading。 Soon a rifle…barrel protruded from behind the
tree。 With his heart beating like a trip…hammer； and the skin tightening on
his face； Joe screened his body as best he might。 The tree was small； but it
served as a partial protection。 Rapidly he revolved in his mind plans to
outwit the enemy。 The Indian was behind a large oak with a low limb over which
he could fire without exposing his own person to danger。
〃Bang！〃 The Indian's rifle bellowed； the bullet crumbled the bark close to
Joe's face。 The lad yelled； loudly； staggered to his knees； and then fell into
the path； where he lay quiet。
The redskin gave an exultant shout。 Seeing that the fallen figure remained
quite motionless he stepped forward； drawing his knife as he came。 He was a
young brave； quick and eager in his movements； and came nimbly up the path to
gain his coveted trophy； the paleface's scalp。
Suddenly Joe sat up； raised his rifle quickly as thought； and fired
point…blank at the Indian。
But he missed。
The redskin stopped aghast when he saw the lad thus seemingly come back to
life。 Then； realizing that Joe's aim had been futile； he bounded forward；
brandishing his knife； and uttering infuriated yells。
Joe rose to his feet with rifle swung high above his head。
When the savage was within twenty feet； so near that big dark； face； swollen
with fierce passion； could be plainly discerned； a peculiar whistling noise
sounded over Joe's shoulder。 It was accompanied； rather than followed； by a
clear； ringing rifleshot。
The Indian stopped as if he had encountered a heavy shock from a tree or stone
barring his way。 Clutching at his breast； he uttered a weird cry； and sank
slowly on the grass。
Joe ran forward to bend over the prostrate figure。 The Indian； a slender；
handsome young brave； had been shot through the breast。 He held his hand
tightly over the wound； while bright red blood trickled between his fingers；
flowed down his side； and stained the grass。
The brave looked steadily up at Joe。 Shot as he was； dying as he knew himself
to be； there was no yielding in the dark eyeonly an unquenchable hatred。
Then the eyes glazed； the fingers ceased twitching。
Joe was bending over a dead Indian。
It flashed into his mind； of course； that Wetzel had come up in time to save
his life； but he did not dwell on the thought； he shrank from this violent
death of a human being。 But it was from the aspect of the dead； not from
remorse for the deed。 His heart beat fast； his fingers trembled； yet he felt
only a strange coldness in all his being。 The savage had tried to kill him；
perhaps； even now； had it not been for the hunter's unerring aim； would have
been gloating over a bloody scalp。
Joe felt； rather than heard； the approach of some one； and he turned to see
Wetzel coming down the path。
〃He's a lone Shawnee runner；〃 said the hunter； gazing down at the dead Indian。
〃He was tryin' to win his eagle plumes。 I seen you both from the hillside。〃
〃You did！〃 exclaimed Joe。 Then he laughed。 〃It was lucky for me。 I tried the
dodge you taught me； but in my eagerness I missed。〃
〃Wal； you hadn't no call fer hurry。 You worked the trick clever； but you
missed him when there was plenty of time。 I had to shoot over your shoulder；
or I'd hev plugged him sooner。〃
〃Where were you？〃 asked Joe。
〃Up there by that bit of sumach？〃 and Wetzel pointed to an open ridge on a
hillside not less than one hundred and fifty yards distant。
Joe wondered which of the two bullets； the death…seeking one fired by the
savage； or the life…saving missile from Wetzel's fatal weapon； had passed
nearest to him。
〃Come；〃 said the hunter； after he had scalped the Indian。
〃What's to be done with this savage？〃 inquired Joe； as Wetzel started up the
path。
〃Let him lay。〃
They returned to camp without further incident。 While the hunter busied
himself reinforcing their temporary shelterfor the clouds looked
threateningJoe cut up some buffalo meat； and then went down to the brook for
a gourd of water。 He came hurriedly back to where Wetzel was working； and
spoke in a voice which he vainly endeavors to hold steady：
〃Come quickly。 I have seen something which may mean a good deal。〃
He led the way down to the brookside。
〃Look！〃 Joe said； pointing at the water。
Here the steam was about two feet deep； perhaps twenty wide； and had just a
noticeable current。 Shortly before； it had been as clear as a bright summer
sky； it was now tinged with yellow clouds that slowly floated downstream； each
one enlarging and becoming fainter as the clear water permeated and stained。
Grains of sand glided along with the current； little pieces of bark floated on
the surface； and minnows darted to and fro nibbling at these drifting
particles。
〃Deer wouldn't roil the water like that。 What does it mean？〃 asked Joe。
〃Injuns； an' not fer away。〃
Wetzel returned to the shelter and tore it down。 Then he bent the branch of a
beech tree low over the place。 He pulled down another branch over the remains
of the camp…fire。 These precautions made the spot less striking。 Wetzel knew
that an Indian scout never glances casually； his roving eyes survey the
forest； perhaps quickly； but thoroughly。 An unnatural position of bush or log
always leads to an examination。
This done； the hunter grasped Joe's hand and led him up the knoll。 Making his
way behind a well…screened tree； which had been uprooted； he selected a
position where； hidden themselves； they could see the creek。
Hardly had Wetzel； admonished Joe to lie perfectly still； when from a short
distance up the stream came the sound of splashing water； but nothing could be
seen above the open glade； as in that direction willows lined the creek in
dense thickets。 The noise grew more audible。
Suddenly Joe felt a muscular contraction pass over the powerful frame lying
close beside him。 It was a convulsive thrill such as passes through a tiger
when he is about to spring upon his quarry。 So subtle and strong was its
meaning； so clearly did it convey to the lad what was coming； that he felt it
himself； save that in his case it was a cold； chill shudder。
Breathless suspense followed。 Then into the open space along the creek glided
a tall Indian warrior。 He was knee…deep in the water； where he waded with low；
cautious steps。 His garish； befrilled costume seemed familiar to Joe。 He
carried a rifle at a low trail； and passed slowly ahead with evident distrust。
The lad believed he recognized that head； with its tangled black hair； and
when he saw the swarthy； villainous countenance turned full toward him； he
exclaimed：
〃Girty！ by…〃
Wetzel's powerful arm forced him so hard against the log that he could not
complete the exclamation； but he could still see。 Girty had not heard that
stifled cry； for he continued his slow wading； and presently his tall； gaudily
decorated form passed out of sight。
Another savage appeared in the open space； and then another。 Close between
them walked a white man； with hands bound behind him。 The prisoner and guards
disappeared down stream among the willows。
The splashing continuedgrew even louder than before。 A warrior came into
view； then another； and another。 They walked close together。 Two more
followed。 They were wading by the side of a raft made of several logs； upon
which were two prostrate figures that closely resembled human beings。
Joe