Chapter III: Part 3

The spot where they halted was so open and free from undergrowth that they had a good view of the small valley spread out before them, and over which they gazed with keen interest.

"Hallo, there they are!" whispered Will.

Following the direction of his finger, his companions saw near the middle of the valley a column of smoke ascending from among the trees, and lazily mingling with the air above, where it rested almost stationary, as though it had been there for hours.

"Yes," said Jack, "a camp fire is there, but we don't know whether it belongs to Indians or white men."

"That's what we have come to find out."

"It seems to me," said George, "that instead of going down together we ought to separate. What do you think, Jack?"

"It strikes me as a good plan; if we keep together it will be hard work for us to find out what we want to know without letting the Indians--if they are Indians--find out more than we want them to learn about us."

"That is good enough," observed Will, to whom the others looked to hear his opinion, "and I guess we may as well try it; but if we separate we have got to be mighty careful that we don't run into danger before we know it. I will turn to the right, you, Jack, to the left, while George can push straight down into the valley; we must be on the watch all the time. As soon as one of us sees anything that tells what we want to know, he must turn back to this place and wait for the others."

"The first one who finds the camp and learns who started it ought to signal to the others, so that they need not run any more risk."

"We will do that," said Jack; "and that is likely to be George, because he has a shorter distance than either of us to travel."

"What shall be the signal?"

Jack placed his two hands in front of his mouth, the palms curved toward each other, so that a hollow space was enclosed, the thumbs being in front. Pressing his lips against these, he blew gently, and made a soft, deep whistle, whose volume he could increase until it was audible for several hundred yards.

While the call thus made bore little resemblance to that of any animal or bird, it had the advantage of being hard to locate. That is, if a person should detect it in the forest it would require the closest attention, and then would have to be repeated several times before the hearer could fix the exact spot whence it came.

"You know how to do that?" he said, looking inquiringly at the brothers.

By way of reply, each fashioned his hands as Jack had done, and, with the lips against the thumbs, emitted a precisely similar sound.

"That's it," he said. "It is understood then that the first one who finds out what we want to know is to start straight back to this spot, and as soon as he reaches a point where it is safe to make the signal he will do so. Neither of the others will be too far off to hear, and will hurry back. Then, after we learn the truth, we'll settle what is best to be done."

All this was simple enough, and when each had added several cautions to the others they silently parted company.

You will see from what has been told that there was reason to believe that George Burton, who took the direct course to the camp fire, would be the first to reach it. Indeed, the others were so confident of his doing so that they were rather indifferent to their own progress.

Feeling the responsibility on him, young George acted like an old campaigner, using more care than seemed necessary at first; but he had felt quite sure from the beginning that they were near a party of Indian warriors, and he did not mean to betray himself and friends into their hands by any lack of caution. He was glad to see, after going a short distance down the slope, that there was an increase of undergrowth. This gave him a better chance to keep his body screened while approaching the camp.

"Whatever happens," was his thought, "it shan't be said that _I_ was the cause of Jack and Will getting into trouble. If there are a party of Indians tramping through here, it is for no good, and the best thing we can do is to get back home as quick as we know how."

At the end of a quarter of an hour he thought he must be close to the camp. Since coming down into the valley he was unable to see the smoke that was in such plain sight when they were on top of the ridge, but he used his keen eyes and sense of hearing with a skill that an Indian scout would have found hard to surpass.

"It must be close at hand--_sh_!"

Sure enough, he had not gone five steps farther when he came in full view of the camp.

In the middle of a small open space a number of sticks had been piled together and kindled an hour or two before. This was plain, not only from the number of burnt-out embers and brands, but from the appearance of the smoke above the trees as already described.

On a fallen tree, near the fire, sat three Indian warriors, talking together in their low guttural voices. Another was in the act of stooping down and lighting his long-stemmed pipe, while a fifth was standing a few feet away, examining his rifle--this being all that were in sight.

Each was in his war paint, and, young as was George Burton, he was certain that they were but a fraction of the party that was in the woods bent on mischief.

"They must be Wyandots," he thought, forming this opinion from the story told by Jack of his encounter that morning; "and we must get home as fast as we can, and tell the folk."

Full of this purpose, he turned softly about to hasten back, when he found himself face to face with a gigantic and scowling Indian warrior!

*CHAPTER XIII.*

*CAPTIVE AND CAPTORS.*

Poor George Burton! After creeping close to the Indian camp fire, and using all the care he could, he had turned about to go back with the important news thus gained, when he found himself face to face with a gigantic warrior, who had stolen up behind him without the least noise that could betray his approach. For a moment the lad was speechless. Young as he was, he saw that he was helpless, but with a weak hope that the savage might be friendly, he said in a faint voice--

"How do you do?"

He did not reach out his hand, being afraid to do so, but he took a step to one side and forward, with the purpose of attempting to pass around the red man who had suddenly stood in his path.

It was an idle hope. The other also moved a step that placed him in front of the boy, so as to block his way.

"Howly do?" he asked, extending his brawny hand, which, it need not be said, was taken by George with much hesitation. The Indian, however, grasped and shook it without offering any injury.

The lad noticed that not only was the face of the red man hideously painted, but that his nose was awry, as though it had been slashed or broken by some frightful wound. He must have been several inches more than six feet in height, with a tremendous breadth of chest and reach of limb. He was dressed in the usual fashion of his people, and carried a tomahawk and knife in his belt.

Instead of being armed with a bow and arrow, as was Hua-awa-oma, whom Jack had spoken about, this remarkable warrior had a long fine rifle, with the necessary powder-horn and shot-pouch held by strings passing round his neck.

The first action after this greeting was an alarming one to George. Reaching out, he drew the rifle from the grasp of the lad, whose anguish was as great as that of Jack Gedney had been.

"Hoof! Yenghese brave--he go!"

The lad would not have caught the whole meaning of this but for the expressive gesture that accompanied it. The red man pointed towards the camp fire, thereby meaning that his captive should walk in that direction.

The circumstances being as they were, George did the wisest thing he could: he obeyed the order of his captor, who, had he chosen, could have smitten him to the earth with as much ease as though he were but an infant.

George, like all youngsters, was deeply interested in the accounts of frontier adventure. He had heard the hunters who sometimes stopped at his house say that the wisest course for a captive in the hands of Indians is to try to please them in every way. Any sullenness or disobedience rouses their anger, and they are quick to punish, and most likely to torment and kill, the hapless prisoner.

The agitation of George was great, but he forced himself to smile, and to say, "How do you do?" as he walked among the party, and took his seat on the log near where the three of whom I have spoken were waiting.

During the few minutes that George was allowed to sit undisturbed on the log he closely watched the faces of the Indians, and particularly of the one who had made him prisoner.

It was the ugliest countenance he had ever seen. Not only was the nose twisted out of shape, but the mouth was amazingly broad, though, like nearly all of the American race, his teeth were white and even. But his eyes were so small that they looked like beads. Around each was a white ring, while the greasy clay that served for paint was daubed over the rest of his features with an effect so hideous as to prove that the redskin was a genius in that line.

During those few minutes also the little fellow did a great deal of serious thinking.

The most natural question that he tried to answer was as to what the Indians were likely to do with him. The different tribes who roamed through the Ohio forests and Kentucky cane-fields were not famous for their kindness or mercy to their prisoners. It is well known that they often tortured them in the most shocking manner. Colonel Crawford, who commanded one of the expeditions sent into that section about the time of which I am telling you, was not only defeated, but he and many of his men were taken prisoners. Colonel Crawford was fastened to a stake driven into the ground, and burned to death with dreadful agony.

All this, not to name other similar incidents, was known to George Burton, who might well tremble for his own fate. Still he did not give up hope.

"Maybe they will think I don't amount to enough for them to bother with, and they may let me go, though I know there is no chance of ever getting my rifle back again. I am glad of one thing--they didn't catch Will or Jack."

The thought of them led George to glance behind and in front, as though he expected to see them approach. Natural as was the act on his part, it was noticed by the Wyandots (such was their tribe), who may have supposed that he expected some of his friends to come to his relief. They looked sharply at the boy, and then resumed their talk.

"We agreed," thought George, recalling their parting, "that we should all keep up the hunt until we learned what we wanted. So Jack or Will will prowl around this camp until they see what a scrape I'm in, and then, what will they do?"

Ay, what _could_ they do?

"They'll run home and tell father," thought the captive, continuing his line of thought, "and he may set out to get me, but what can he do against all this crowd? He may go up to the settlement and bring a lot of the folk to help, but before they can come within reach of these people my fate will be settled."

There was every reason to believe that George Burton was quite right in the latter conclusion.

The conversation of the Wyandots, whatever its nature, lasted only a few minutes longer. Then the one who was occupied in filling his pipe when George first caught sight of the camp came forward, and stopped in front of him.

Most of the red men who live along the frontier soon pick up a few words of English, but it is seldom that one is seen who spoke so readily as did he who now addressed the captive. Doubtless on that account he was called upon.

"Where paleface come from?" he asked, with such a good accent that George looked up at him in surprise.

"From my home over yonder," was his prompt reply, as he pointed to the northward--the direction in which his home lay.

"What name be?"

George gave it, whereupon his questioner took several whiffs of his pipe, nodded his head several times and grunted, as if to signify that he knew all about Mr. Burton.

"Come alone?"

"I came with my brother Will and Jack Gedney."

Again the Indian indulged in several whiffs, nods, and grunts.

It was quite clear that he was in a neighbourhood with which he was familiar.

"Where be they?"

"I do not know," was the truthful reply of the lad, who, all the same, would never say anything that could endanger his friends.

The eyes of his Wyandot questioner flashed, and without waiting to take any more puffs at his pipe, he added, in a louder voice--

"Tell me, or me kill you."

"I can't tell you, for I don't know. I parted from them some time ago, and don't know where they are."

"Why you leave them?"

"We saw the smoke of your camp fire, and we started out to find whether it belonged to white or red men."

The Indian looked sharply down in his face, and laid his hand on his tomahawk, as if asking himself whether he had not better end the whole matter by whipping out the weapon, and braining the little fellow as he sat on the log.

"Be oder Yengese in woods?"

"Not that I know of; Jack Gedney had a new gun given him yesterday by his father because it was his birthday, and he and we started into the woods to-day on a hunt."

Poor George would probably have added more had not an interruption taken place at that moment, caused by an important arrival.

*CHAPTER XIV.*

*THE SIGNAL AND ITS REPLY.*

You will remember that when the three boys separated with the purpose of finding out who started the camp fire, Will went to the right and Jack to the left.

Will, being the oldest of the three, felt that in a certain sense he was the leader of the party, and the one to whom the others looked for guidance. He knew at the same time that Jack Gedney was just as well qualified as he, and that in some respects he was his superior. But a year makes a big difference with a youngster of his age.

Will made quite a long circuit to the right, his intention being to approach the camp fire from a point some distance beyond. There was little change in the general character of the wood, though at some points the undergrowth was so plentiful as to require labour and patience on his part.

He was pushing forward in this fashion when he caught his toe in one of the troublesome running vines, and went forward on his face. The fall was not violent enough to hurt him, though it caused a natural exclamation of impatience.

"It's well I am a good way from the camp," he thought, resuming his feet; "for if Indians were near they would have heard me sure."

A hundred yards farther, and he began turning to the left with the intention of approaching the camp; but he had gone only a short distance when he became aware that there was some one in front who was following the same course. He knew this by the bent and broken twigs, the pressed bushes, and more than all by sounds of a moving body only a short distance off.

"That's queer," was the natural thought of the boy; "I wonder whether Jack or George has got over on my side. They ought to know better than to move that way."

The thought had hardly taken shape in the mind of Will when he caught a glimpse of the figure a few rods in advance. It was an Indian warrior, whose back was turned towards him.

He was walking among the trees and through the undergrowth in a leisurely fashion, that showed he not only knew how close he was to the camp, but that the parties gathered there were his friends.

When the boy observed him he stepped softly behind the nearest tree, and hardly dared to peep out until the red man had passed beyond sight. Had the savage turned his head at first, he must have detected the lad.

"That's strange," muttered Will, when he peeped around the tree, and found the Indian had disappeared; "if I had been a minute later in falling he must have heard me. His people don't travel in that style when they suspect enemies are near."

Will was sure he was right in his conclusion; the camp fire belonged to Indians, and the warrior who had just vanished was one of the party, as was shown by his carelessness of movement.

Such being the case, the boy felt that he had learned all that he needed to know, and it was not prudent for him to go farther. It was now certain that a war party of Indians were in the neighbourhood, and the right thing for the boys to do was to hasten back home, so as to warn their friends.

It cannot be denied that this was a sensible decision, and Will lost no time in acting upon it.

His belief was that he was ahead of the others in learning about the red men, and he was anxious to notify Jack and George, so as to keep them from running into danger. Remembering the signal that had been agreed upon, he placed the hollow of his hands together, applied his lips to the thumbs, and gave out the whistle like that made by a steam engine, when the sound comes a long way over land and through forest.

"They will hear that," he said to himself, as he stood a minute and listened, "and will keep away from the camp. The Indians will hear it too, but they won't have any idea what it means. Hallo!"

To the surprise of Will he detected an answer to his signal. It sounded faint and far off; but you remember what I said about the trouble of knowing the point from which such a signal comes. To save his life, the lad could not have told whether it issued from the north, south, east, or west.

"That's good," he said to himself, starting back over the course by which he had advanced. "I don't think either Jack or George has got nigh enough to the camp to run any risk, and it was fortunate that I found out the truth in time to warn them."

Some minutes later, when he had made fair progress, he stopped in his walk and repeated his signal, thinking possibly that the first had been heard by only one of his companions.

"That will reach both, and start them towards the top of the ridge."

While he was listening he again caught the reply. Since he was half expecting it, he laughed.

"I think that's Jack. There isn't any need of his answering, but I suppose he wants to show how well he can do it."

You would think that Will was sure of the course of the faint hollow whistle that trembled among the trees, but he was not. It may have been that because he expected the reply from a certain point that it seemed to come thence, but all the same he was mistaken.

"I'll be the first to the ridge, and most likely will be the only one that has got any news. My gracious!"

This time the tremulous call was so close that he could not mistake its direction. It sounded in front, and not twenty rods distant. The affrighted Will halted, knowing that something was wrong.

"I don't believe that is either Jack or George," he said to himself. "They couldn't have got back there in time."

Whatever doubt might have lingered in the mind of Will was removed by the sight of the one who had just emitted the signal. The head of a Wyandot warrior was thrust so far from behind the trunk of a tree that his shoulders was seen through the black mass of coarse hair dangling about them.

The redskin was within easy gunshot, and he held his rifle pointed straight at the boy, but the latter, not knowing whether it was a summons to surrender, or whether the savage meant to fire, bounded behind the nearest tree.

"I've got a gun as well as you, and you don't catch me for the asking."

The same signal that had been heard several times once more fell upon the ear of Will. Like the last, it was so near that he could not mistake its direction--it was from the rear.

Turning his head, he saw a second Indian within fifty feet, with a bow and arrow. He did not try to screen his body, but his primitive weapon was held in such a position that he could launch the shaft before the boy could have used his weapon.

Will was caught between two fires, for you will see that since one of his enemies was in front and the other in the rear, he could not use the tree as a screen against both; in whatever position he took he would be exposed to their aim.

"There is no help for it," was the despairing thought of the lad, when both Indians began walking towards him. Not wishing to exasperate them, he dropped the butt of his gun to the ground, as he stepped out from behind the tree that he had used for the moment as a screen against the first warrior.

His captors accepted this as a sign of friendship, and the one with a rifle also lowered his weapon, though both he and his ally kept a close watch on the youth, who, like ripe fruit, had fallen into their hands without "shaking."

It was a trying ordeal for Will to stand motionless while these two aborigines drew nigh, but he recalled what Jack had told him about his meeting with the chieftain Hua-awa-oma, and his wrestling bout with Arowaka, his son.

"This must be his party; maybe that fellow with the bow and arrow is the chief himself. If he was so kind to Jack, he may show a little indulgence to me. But there is no way now of helping myself, and I must trust to God to take care of me, as He has done all my life."

The first act of the Indian with the bow and arrow was to take the gun of Will Burton from him. He did not ask for the powder-horn and bullet-pouch, satisfied, no doubt, that they were his whenever he chose to take them. But the gun was loaded, and the safest course was to withdraw it from the hands of him who might feel like doing harm with it.

Will looked sharply at the redskin as he passed his rifle to him. He observed that he was dressed as Jack had described, and his face was hideously painted.

"Are you Hua-awa-oma?" asked the boy.

The savage looked inquiringly at him, and Will repeated the question. The warrior muttered something, and shook his head. He was not Hua-awa-oma, for he did not understand a word said to him.

The other Wyandot stood for a moment while this brief interview took place. Then pointing toward the camp fire, he made an angry gesture, nodded his head several times, and said something in his own tongue, which was clearly meant as the order "March!"

Will did not wait for a second command, but stepped briskly forward, and a few minutes later joined the group which I have already described as gathered around the Wyandot camp fire.

*CHAPTER XV.*

*ANOTHER ARRIVAL.*

It was the arrival of Will Burton in charge of his two captors that broke in upon the interview between George and the Wyandot, who was asking him a number of questions shaped in very good English.

The meeting of the brothers, as you may well suppose, was a painful surprise to both of them.

"How came you to be here?" asked the elder, taking a seat beside the other on the log.

"One of them stole up behind me when I wasn't thinking," replied George, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I didn't believe any of them would catch you."

"Nor I either," replied Will, with a shake of his head, and turning pale; "but they are mighty cunning and smart. Did you hear me when I signalled?"

George shook his head. It should be said that during the few minutes the brothers were allowed to talk with each other the Indians themselves were conversing. The arrival of the captives evidently started several theories and questions, which required some time to discuss.

The Wyandots kept an eye on the boys sitting on the fallen tree, but they made no objection to their talking together. The latter noticed that all were on their feet, speaking earnestly, and gesticulating with much energy. Among them were a couple who had bows and arrows instead of guns, though the majority were furnished with the more deadly rifle.

"I wonder if they'll catch Jack too?" said the younger, after his brother had told him how his own signal had betrayed him.

"I shouldn't wonder. I suppose there was so much going on here that you didn't hear me when I whistled, but it must have reached Jack and started him on the move, and likely enough he has made the same blunder that we have. You know he went on the other side from me, and must have come just as close to camp."

"What do you suppose they will do with us, Will?"

The elder shook his head.

"I can't tell, any more than you can; we can only hope that they will spare our lives."

"If they do let us go they won't give us back our guns."

"Of course not; they will be a big loss to us, but not so much as our lives."

"We can't be sure that we won't lose them too," was the truthful remark of George. "I was thinking," he added, "that if Jack keeps out of their hands he will see what has happened to us. He'll hurry back home, and they may be able to get enough men together to make the Indians give us up."

Will shook his head, and compressed his lips.

"There is no hope there; you know how fast the Indians travel through the woods. They will get away before any of our friends can start."

"But their villages are not so far off that they cannot be found. You remember how Daniel Boone chased the Indians that stole his daughter, and brought her back?"

"Yes; he told father about it when he was at our house. But that was different. If the Wyandots--as I suppose these people are--should find there was any chance of losing us, they would kill us as quick as lightning. The only hope," added Will, with a sigh, "is in Hua-awa-oma."

"How do you make that out?"

"I don't make it out, and more than likely there's nothing in it; but you know Jack told us that he is a chief, and that he gave his gun back to him."

"That was because he beat his boy wrestling."

"Well, it may be that on Jack's account he won't be too severe with us; but," added Will the next instant, "there can't be much chance after all. I wonder whether Hua-awa-oma is among these fellows? I thought that the one who came in with me was he, because he had no rifle until he took mine away from me."

"Maybe he is the chief."

"No; I asked him, and found he couldn't speak English. That fellow who brought you in is the biggest Indian I ever saw, but he can't be the chief."

"No; I know he is not."

While talking, the boys were studying the figures and faces of the red men around them, for they were interesting indeed.

"There's one thing that makes it sure that Hua-awa-oma is absent," said the elder, settling back on the log; "his boy who wrestled with Jack is not here. He is taking him on his first war trail, and he would be sure to keep him near him until they got back."

"Don't you think it strange, Will, that when most of these people have rifles the sachem who leads them should carry nothing better than bows and arrows?"

"That is natural enough: he has probably taken his boy out for a little training, and his father carries his own bow the better to teach him. When the chief comes back to his warriors you may be sure that he will have the best gun in the party."

"It may be that he belongs to another party."

"I have thought of that, but I guess there is only the one company that is on this raid. However, we can talk all day and it won't help us any. Do you know whether any of them can speak English?"

"There is one that speaks it better than any Indian I ever saw: where is he?" asked George, straightening up, and looking around for the warrior who was questioning and threatening him at the moment the elder brother was brought into camp.

"I declare!" exclaimed the boy the next moment, when he discovered that the very Wyandot for whom he was searching was standing directly behind the log on which they were sitting. His arms were folded and he was looking at his friends who were talking so earnestly together, but beyond all question he had heard and understood every word spoken by the boys.

"Well," said the elder, dropping his voice, "we have told all there is to tell, and we may as well keep on talking."

"And that doesn't leave us much to talk about," replied George, who spoke in a louder voice than his brother.

At this juncture the vigorous conversation among the Wyandots stopped; and several of them took seats on the log near the boys.

The brothers, as you may well suppose, felt anything but comfortable when they saw they were the objects of the attention that had been turned away for a few minutes.

The warrior who has been referred to as speaking such good English now addressed himself to Will.

"Where be Jack?"

This question was proof, if any was needed, that he understood what had passed between the brothers during the conversation which I have given.

"I parted company with him on the ridge, and haven't seen him since."

"Which way he go?"

Will hesitated before answering. He could not do anything that looked like a betrayal of his friend. If he answered the question truthfully it might give the very information that would result in the capture of the only one of the three that had been able to keep out of the hands of the Indians.

It would have been easy enough to tell an untruth, but the soul of the boy revolted against it. Besides, the falsehood was almost certain to be discovered sooner or later, in which event the penalty would be visited upon him.

"Don't you know," whispered George, "that you spoke of the route Jack took? The Indian knows it himself."

Of course; why was not Will as quick as his brother to see the trap his questioner was setting?

Will disguised very well the cause of his hesitation. He scratched his head and looked around in the wood, as if uncertain of the point of the compass. Then his face lightened, as if it all had come back to him.

"Yonder is the ridge where we three stood a half-hour ago," he said, pointing in the proper direction; "I went that way; my brother here came straight down to the camp; while Jack turned off so as to go among the trees yonder."

The answer was truthful, as the Indian well knew. He had been misled, too, by the manner of Will, who therefore gained whatever it was worth in the eyes of the Wyandots by speaking with a "single tongue."

"We catch Jack," continued his questioner; "we bring him here; he soon be here; we take him home to Wyandot town; we make 'em run gauntlet; then we kill all you."

I suppose you know what is meant by running the gauntlet. It is a common torture to which the American Indians subject their prisoners. Two rows of savages arm themselves with clubs, and compel the poor captive to run a long distance between them. As he passes within reach, each redskin belabours him without mercy, so that, as the victim has to run a long way, he is almost certain to be knocked to the earth, where more than likely he is beaten to death.

If he succeeds in running the gauntlet he is sometimes spared (as was Simon Kenton), but is often kept for other forms of torture.

What further the Wyandot might have said to the boys can only be guessed, for, as before, he was checked by another arrival that was the strangest and most important of all--one that astonished even the stolid Wyandots themselves.

*CHAPTER XVI.*

*HOW TO CONQUER AN ENEMY.*

I have told you what befell Will and George Burton when they made their attempt to find out who had kindled the camp fire in the valley below the ridge on which they halted. But the experience of Jack Gedney was the strangest of all.

You have learned enough about this boy to admit that he was bright and alert, and that when he moved through the woods he always kept his senses about him. Like his friend Will, he thought it best to pass slightly beyond the camp before approaching it, though for myself I cannot see the reason for such a course.

Instead, therefore, of taking the most direct route, he moved to the left, so that, when opposite to the Wyandots, he was really farther away from them than while on the ridge. The distance was such indeed that he failed to hear the signal of Will, who supposed it was loud enough to travel a long way through the wilderness.

Pausing for a moment, Jack carefully looked about him, and even among the tops of the trees. The only living thing which he saw was a huge rattlesnake, that was crawling by a stump a few yards away. Like the majority of mankind, the first prompting of the lad was to rush forward and kill the reptile. In fact, he started to do so.

Instantly the serpent twisted itself into a coil, and with its head rearing from the centre, shook its rattle as an invitation to attack. Jack could have easily shot off its head, and he would have been glad to do so, for it was an unusually large and repulsive pest, but to fire his gun at such a time would have been an imprudence for which there could be no excuse.

"I'll let you go," he said, looking steadily at it for a few seconds; "but it's well for you that I didn't meet you before I knew anything about this camp."

The _crotalus_ species is easily killed, but this specimen, finding its invitation to a fight not accepted, unwound, and crawled off.

Seeing and hearing nothing, Jack began moving towards the camp, though, like his friends, he was unable to see anything of the smoke that was their guide when they halted on the crest of the ridge. He had travelled through the forest long enough, however, to keep his bearings, and he was sure that he was going in a straight line for the camp, which, he was almost equally sure, belonged to the Wyandot tribe of Indians.

"It will be odd if I find Hua-awa-oma there," he said to himself, while stealthily picking his way. "I wonder what he would say if I should walk up to him and offer my hand? I am afraid he wouldn't be so kind as he was a while ago."

The boy was stepping in this guarded manner, as wide awake as ever, when, like Will, his toe caught in one of the running vines close to the ground, and he stumbled forward. He did not fall, though he came very near doing so. His head was thrown forward and downward in his effort to check himself.

No accident could have been more fortunate for it saved Jack's life. At the very instant of stumbling he heard the twang of a bow-string, and the missile which was aimed at him, whizzed over his shoulder and was buried in the trunk of a tree beyond.

In obedience to a thought that came like an inspiration to him, the boy allowed himself to fall forward on his hands and knees, where he remained motionless for several seconds. Turning his head he saw the arrow that had missed him by a hair's-breadth with its head buried deep in the bark, while the feathered shaft was still quivering from the force of the impact.

The missile was fired by Arowaka, who, in returning to camp, caught sight of his enemy in front of him. Seeing him fall at the moment the arrow left his hand, and failing to note where it went, the young savage thought the lad had been fatally pierced by the shaft. Whipping out his knife, he ran forward with the intention of taking the scalp from his victim.

He had but a short distance to go when he caught sight of the white boy, who, instead of lying on the ground in his death struggles, was kneeling on one knee, with his cocked rifle levelled at the head of the young Wyandot.

The latter, with a terrified "Hoof!" stopped as if shot, and stood transfixed, absolutely unable to stir. He saw he was at the mercy of his foe, who he did not believe would spare his life for a dozen seconds.

"_Arowaka, you're mine!_" said Jack, slowly rising to his feet, but keeping his gun levelled.

The words seemed to rouse the senses of the Indian youth, who dropped his bow, folded his arms, and, throwing his shoulders back as he faced his conqueror, said in a low, firm voice--

"Arowaka ready! He die like warrior!"

There was a heroism in the pose and words of the youthful Wyandot which thrilled Jack Gedney. Almost any one would have started to run, or, seeing there was no hope in doing so, would have begged for mercy. The Indian did neither, but, the son of a sachem as he was, he proved that he could die like the bravest of his people.

But, bless your heart, Jack had not the least wish to harm him. The law of the border would have told him to shoot him, since the action of the Indian proved him to be a mortal enemy, and one who, unwilling to show mercy himself, did not deserve that any should be shown to him.

Jack would have done his utmost to slay the young savage had they met in mortal combat, but the check came before that point was reached. And, again, he was touched by the cool daring of Arowaka.

Hardly were the words spoken by the Indian when Jack lowered his gun, softly letting down the hammer, and said, with a smile--

"Arowaka, let us be friends."

As he spoke, he stepped forward and offered his hand to the young Wyandot.

You would have been entertained could you have seen the face of Arowaka when he grasped the meaning of the words and actions of his conqueror. The paint smeared over his countenance could not hide the expressions of bewilderment, of wonder, and then of delight, that succeeded each other so quickly that he extended his own hand, and shook that of Jack with a warmth of pressure which made him wince.

"Arowaka love Jack."

There was no mistaking the depth of feeling that prompted these words, spoken in a low voice, in which there was a quaver that was not there when he declared himself ready to die.

The Indian felt that the youth who had overthrown him in the wrestling bout, and whose death he had treacherously attempted, had now given back his own life to him. That stratum of gratitude which, though hidden deeper in some hearts than others, nevertheless _is there_, and _can be reached_, had been found by Jack. The burning hatred of Arowaka for the youth was now turned to love.

The American might feel an enmity for ever toward the Caucasian, but against this single member of that race he could never know aught but deep affection.

I tell you, boys and girls, there is nothing like kindness and charity in winning the hearts of your enemies. Make the test, and prove it for yourselves.

At the moment the two youths of different blood stood with hands clasped and looking in each other's face, a third party silently pressed forward into sight.

He was Hua-awa-oma, the chieftain, and father of Arowaka.

He must have been surprised by the sight, knowing how resentful his son felt towards the white youth for overthrowing him, but the explanation was quickly made.

It seemed that Hua-awa-oma and his son had started out on a scout together (a number of warriors being similarly employed), when the former decided to return to camp. He directed his son to take a different route from his own, and thus it came about that they met as they did in the vicinity of the war party.

Arowaka dropped the hand of his new friend, and turning to his father, told him the story.

Of course, Jack did not understand a word spoken, but the language of the American Indian is largely made up of gesture, and our young friend was sure of the general run of the story.

He-who-Fights-Without-Falling (which, you know, was the meaning in English of the name of Hua-awa-oma) looked straight in the face of the narrator while he was speaking, but did not utter a word. Jack, however, noted the gleam of his eye, and he knew that whatever it might mean, it signified no harm to him.

The story was a brief one; but as the Christian kindness of Jack went home to the heart of the son, so did the touching narrative thereof stir the deepest feelings of the swarthy heathen who had wrenched the hair from the head of more than one quivering victim, and sunk his tomahawk into the brain of more than one poor wretch pleading for mercy.

When Arowaka ceased, his parent turned towards Jack and reached out his hand.

"Brave Yenghese--great warrior--Hua-awa-oma love him; no Wyandot hurt Jack--_no hurt people of Jack_!"

The meaning of the last remark was not fully understood by the lad until years afterwards. I will tell you about it later on.

"I am glad that Hua-awa-oma is a friend to me. I love Arowaka, and we shall never try to hurt each other. I will do anything I can for Hua-awa-oma or for Arowaka."

And now followed such a singular proceeding, that I must take another chapter to tell you about it.

*CHAPTER XVII.*

*A FRIEND AT COURT.*

Tim American race is noted for its stoicism. An Indian warrior undergoing a painful death will not please his enemies by showing suffering, but will die with words of defiance on his lips, and scorning the rage of his persecutors.

Many have thought that these people are lacking in affection for their offspring, but this is a mistake. Among their wigwams in the depth of the wilderness, where the eye of no stranger can see them, they will pet and fondle their little ones with as much evidence of love as their civilised brethren. They are strict and often cruel in training their young, but they hold them as closely to their hearts as the tenderest parent ever held his boy or girl.

So it was with the Wyandot chieftain. He was harsh with his son, whom he had taken on the war-path for the first time, but Hua-awa-oma would have given his life to save that of Arowaka. He would not have blamed him had he succeeded in driving the arrow through the heart of Jack Gedney, for the lad was trained for such treacherous deeds; but Arowaka failed, and then the white boy spared his life.

This was an act beyond the reach of the American Indian, and, alas! I must say, it was beyond the reach of many a white man, but it won the gratitude of the chieftain. Having assured Jack of this fact, he now looked at him, and said in his abrupt way--

"Jack teach Arowaka how wrestle."

Jack laughed. The chief admired his skill as shown earlier in the day, and he wanted him to teach the dusky youth some of the tricks by which the white lad was able to lay his antagonist on his back.

Jack was glad to do so. Leaning his gun against the nearest tree, Arowaka doing the same with his bow, he stepped towards him, smiling and saying--

"Arowaka will soon see, for he is strong."

The Indian lad was as much pleased as he, for he was sure of learning more than he had ever known about the art of wrestling--enough to enable him to beat any of his friends who dared engage in a contest with him.

Jack was shrewd. When he locked arms with Arowaka he could have flung him at once to the earth, but he took good care not to do so. He made several feints, but checked himself before the lad went down. Then he showed him how to make those feints, how to trip his opponent, and, indeed, he did his utmost to teach him everything that he had learned from his own father.

Arowaka was an apt pupil. He was lithe, sinewy, and eager to learn, and with such conditions a boy is sure to pick up the art with great quickness. After this had continued some time, Jack said--

"Now look out! See whether you can keep me from throwing you just as I did this morning the first time I tried."

The two locked their arms more rigidly than before, and the struggle looked like a fierce one. Hua-awa-oma watched it with the closest interest. Back and forth twisted the boys, like a couple of enemies locked in deadly embrace, and struggling for their lives.

All at once the heels of Jack went up in the air and he fell flat on his back, with Arowaka, across him. The chief was so delighted that he broke into laughter. Was there ever an apter pupil than his own son?

Now I must tell you the truth. Jack Gedney was guilty of a gross deception. All that furious twisting and swinging back and forth was pretence on his part. He could have thrown Arowaka with a little more effort than he put forth in the morning, but he deliberately allowed him to throw him, and he did it, too, in such a manner that neither the youth nor his parent suspected it was not a fair victory.

Jack climbed to his feet, and with a sheepish look brushed the leaves from his clothing.

"You did that well," said he; "when you go back to your people there will be no youth that you cannot master. Now let me show you something else."

Jack carefully instructed him in the method of flinging an antagonist over his shoulders. Arowaka soon caught the idea, but when, in his confidence, he offered to engage in a trial with his teacher, the latter laughed, and shook his head.

"No; I have never been tossed that way, and I don't want you to drive my head into the ground."

It really looked as if he was afraid of Arowaka, but you know he was not. He was wise, however, in making Arowaka think so.

To please Hua-awa-oma, the youths once more locked arms. It would have awakened suspicion had Jack allowed the other to beat him again, but he went as near to it as was prudent. He struggled long, and when the two went down, it was side by side. Then, when they tried it again, he threw Arowaka fairly.

Once more, and for the last time, they assailed each other, Jack, by what seemed a failure to catch a feint of the other, falling under him. The boys rose to their feet, and the smiling chieftain shook hands with both. Not only that, but he patted Jack on the shoulder and said--

"Brave boy! Hua-awa-oma friend--Jack come with Hua-awa-oma."

The lad was a little startled by this invitation to enter the Indian camp with the sachem. He would have much preferred to join his friends and go home, but he was afraid to object, and he knew that he would be safe so long as in the company of Hua-awa-oma.

"I will go with my friend the great chief," he said, picking up his gun, and pausing for the sachem to lead the way.

He-who-Fights-Without-Falling stepped off, followed by Jack and Arowaka, the two youths walking side by side. It was the arrival of this little party which caused such a sensation in camp, and which you will agree, was the most important of the three that took place.

That which astonished the Wyandots was the evidence that the third boy who approached did not do so as a captive. Unlike the others, he came as the friend and guest of their own chief, one of the most famous leaders of the Wyandot tribe. Not only that, but Hua-awa-oma was an implacable foe of the settlers along the Ohio and in Kentucky.

No wonder, therefore, that the warriors were astonished.

Will and George were as much amazed as was Jack to see them. They rose from the log, and the elder said--

"Well, they have got us all at last; we may as well give up now."

"Why, boys, I am not a prisoner. This is the chief and his son, and they are friends of mine."

The faces of the brothers lightened, but they did not feel sure that Jack was not mistaken. He read their doubts, and added--

"There is no mistake about it; I have been out in the wood yonder teaching Arowaka how to wrestle, and the chief was so pleased that he asked me to come into camp with him."

"How do you know what he means to do with you?" asked George.

"I have no fear about _that_," was the reply of Jack. "I showed mercy to his son when he didn't expect it, and the chief is grateful."

"We are glad to know that _you_ are safe," said Will, speaking in a low voice, so that none of the Wyandots should overhear him; "but the chief has no reason to spare George and me."

"I am sure he will; any way, you can depend on one thing: I shall not accept my freedom unless he gives you yours. I'll stand by you all the way through."

"There is no need of that," replied Will, touched by the devotion of his friend. "I know you will do all you can to get Hua-awa-oma to let us go, but if he refuses it won't help matters by your staying behind."

"I'll show you how it will help matters," said Jack, more determinedly than before; "but while they are having their confab, tell me, Will, how came you to be here?"

The elder brother gave the particulars of his mishap, just as you learned them long ago. When he was through, George told his experience, which is also familiar to you. And then Jack related how Arowaka had so nearly taken his life, and how he spared him when he was helpless.

"It was no more than either of you would have done had you stood in my shoes."

"But it is a good deal more than any Indian would do for either of us," said Will.