A great lump came in Ree's throat as he looked upon the body of honest old Jerry, and stood for a few seconds watching in a dazed, helpless way the big blue flies which buzzed about the lifeless animal in the morning sunlight. Then he saw for the first time that carion birds, buzzards, perhaps, had been feeding on the horse's flesh.

The oppressive silence and desolation of the camp were as dead weights on the lad's spirits, already burdened with most unhappy thoughts, and standing as still as the motionless trees about him, he could not summon back the resolution and courage which had kept him unfaltering throughout the night. The snapping of a twig recalled his scattered senses, however, and his sudden movement frightened a gaunt wolf which had crept up almost to the lifeless horse, and now went skulking away.

"I cannot understand--cannot think, I must get my wits to working, some way!" the boy exclaimed in a half whisper, "what in the world can have happened?"

Again Ree's mind gained the mastery over his fatigued body and his powerful determination seemed again to drive the weariness away. He stooped and stroked but once or twice the dead horse's damp foretop, then hastened to the cart. Nothing in it had been disturbed. He looked carefully about the shelter of poles and brush which had been built, and found everything in comparatively good order. Surely things would not be in this state if his friends had been driven off or killed by Indians. It must be that they were attacked, had repulsed the enemy and had now gone in pursuit.

But why had they not returned? There was no doubt but that old Jerry had been dead at least a day, and John and Tom would, in that case, have been absent nearly as long.

With feverish anxiety Ree searched for a trail which would show the direction taken by the enemy or his friends, or both, but the sound of a stealthy footstep on the bank above caused him to spring to the shelter of a tree.

As he watched and listened, he heard voices, and quietly stepped into the open; for he would have known John's tones among ten thousand. And at the same minute John and Tom Fish saw Ree gazing up at them, and both ran toward him, John crying excitedly: "Return Kingdom! Oh, but I am glad to see you!"

"Dutch rum an' fire-water, it's happy I am y'er back!" Tom Fish exclaimed.

"What has happened, John?" asked Ree in his usual quiet way, grasping his friend's hand.

"What ain't happened? It beats me as I ain't ever been beat yet," Tom Fish made answer.

"It was another of those mysterious shots, Ree--the very morning you left us," said John, putting his hand affectionately on his chum's arm.

"Another?" Ree spoke more to himself than to either John or Tom, and something made him think of Big Pete Ellis and the fellow's threats.

"It was the same sort of a shot as before, but in broad daylight," John answered. "We had just got the cart down into this gully and were preparing to get it up the other side, when we heard a rifle shot and--old Jerry fell dead. I saw the smoke curling out from the bushes just half a minute later, and Tom and I both ran back up the hill. But there was no one near. We did find a trail but it was mingled with the tracks of the horse and cart, and the snow being gone, we could not follow it. For miles around the woods seemed as quiet as a Sunday at home. We looked all about but--"

"Only one thing is plain, some Mingo or somebody has a grudge ag'in ye, or else there's been some consarned queer coincidences," broke in Tom Fish. "It beats me!"

"I don't see what we are to do, Ree! Tom and I decided just to wait here until you came back. But what have you been doing? Why, your hands and face are frightfully scratched, and you look all played out!"

"I guess I've had my hands full," said Ree with a sad little smile. "But tell me where you two were. Why is there no fire?"

"Such a time as we have had!" was John's sorrowful answer. "Poor old Jerry was scarcely dead before there were hawks or buzzards circling around above us, and when night came, wolves and other animals howled all around us, and so near we would have been afraid, had we not had a big fire. Toward morning it became quieter and I was asleep, and Tom on watch, when a bear came poking around."

"Biggest bear ye ever seen," interrupted Thomas Fish.

"Well," John went on, "we both set out after that bear, though it was pitch dark. We had a long chase for nothing, though, for we caught sight of the big fellow only once, and not long enough to get a shot at him.

Coming back, it was light, and we stopped to explore the gully. But we did not expect to find you here, Ree. We would not have come back when we did, only to keep the buzzards away from the horse till we can burn the body. And I don't see what we are to do. But you haven't told a word about yourself."

Ree was busily thinking, and for a little time made no answer. Then Tom and John spoke again, asking where he had been and what he had found.

"Why, I'll tell you," he answered them. "I came upon a first-cla.s.s place for a cabin, on a bluff right at the bank of a splendid little river, and a little natural clearing around it. About five minutes later I came upon some Delaware Indians and as they wouldn't believe me when I told them who I was, they made me a prisoner. I got away in the night, and here I am."

John's eyes opened wide, and excitedly he demanded to know all the particulars of Ree's adventure. Tom Fish whistled a long, low note and almost closing his eyes, he looked toward Ree with a squint which was more expressive of his astonishment and interest than words could have been.

As the three of them sat on the thills of the now useless cart, Ree told them more fully of his experiences. Many were John's outbursts of interest, and Tom whistled in his peculiar way more than once.

"Can't more than kill us, and we may as well die that way as starve to death," said the old hunter, as Ree spoke of the probability of the Indians soon finding their camp, and straightway he began preparations for breakfast. As they gathered about the savory meal which soon was ready, the conversation turned again to the mysterious attack which had ended the life of their horse.

John could not be persuaded that it was not some prowling Indian who had fired the shot, but Ree urged both him and Tom to be on their guard constantly and he would be the same, he said, for there was no knowing when another bullet might come whizzing toward them, nor when one of their own lives might not be thus snuffed out.

As breakfast was finished, John and Tom pleaded with Ree that he should lie down and get some rest, but he took a cold bath in the brook close by, instead, and would not listen to them further. All three were keeping their eyes open to detect the approach of Indians, for they did not doubt the savages would soon come, especially since the re-kindling of the fire had sent a stream of smoke steadily skyward, and now this signal of their whereabouts was made all the more plain by the building of a much larger fire upon and about the body of the unfortunate horse.

"Let them come," was the confident declaration of Return Kingdom, as Tom Fish had suggested that the savages could not be far away. "We will meet them as friends," he went on, "and I honestly believe that when they find that we are peaceable traders, there will be no trouble whatever."

Tom whistled and squinted as Ree took this bold stand, but he had learned that the boy "had a long head," and made no further remonstrance against the plan proposed.

About noon the savages arrived. John discovered a dark face peering out from some bushes on the bluff, and waved his hand in that direction in a friendly way. The searching eyes instantly disappeared. It required courage to follow the program Ree had mapped out, now when it was known that vengeful and cruel Delawares were lurking so near, themselves fully protected by the bank and brush, and trees; but when, a few minutes later Ree saw an Indian looking down at them, and the fellow put down his gun as a sign of friendliness, they knew they had acted wisely.

Notwithstanding the show of friendliness, however, Tom Fish said: "Keep your wits about ye, kittens, there ain't no snake in the woods as treacherous as them varmints."

Two savages were soon seen coming down the path, and Ree and John, laying down their guns, as the Indians had done, walked forward to meet them.

Thus peace was secured for the time being, at least, and as the boys shook hands with the Redskins, the latter gave them to understand that their chief was in waiting to be met and conducted to the camp.

Ree went to the cart and secured from their stock of merchandise a small hand-mirror in a round, pewter frame with a pewter lid over it, and with this for a present to the chief, he and John were guided to a spot not far away where the savage warrior and his braves were a.s.sembled. He was a tall muscular young fellow and would have been handsome had it not been for a look of malicious cunning and wickedness in his small dark eyes.

But the gift of the mirror pleased his savage fancy greatly and he accepted it with a show of friendliness.

There were eleven Indians in the party. John could not repress a smile when he saw the singed hair and burned face of the young brave whom Ree had knocked into the fire, but even Kingdom failed to recognize the savage with whom he had battled for his very life alone in the darkness.

By sign or otherwise neither of the boys made any reference to the adventure of the day and night before, but with perfect friendliness conducted the Indians to their camp.

Tom Fish's spirits had grown lighter when he saw that a fight would be avoided and he greeted each Indian in his happy-go-lucky fashion.

"You're a good un," he said to the chief. "Got a little muscle, too, ain't ye? Ain't no religion in that eye o' your'n, though!"

And so it went with the whole party. As he noticed the buck who was burned Tom laughed aloud. "Pretty near took the hide off, didn't it, Smart Alec?" he exclaimed. "Doubled ye up like a two-bladed jack-knife, I should guess. Oh, these here boys are frisky! No foolin' with them!"

John laughed at this, but no one took heed of him except Tom, who laughed boisterously, as he always did when anyone showed an appreciation of his crude jokes.

Almost immediately upon reaching the camp the Indians asked for "fire-water," but Ree shook his head. It was true that in one of the several packages of goods there was a large stone bottle of whiskey which Capt. Bowen had provided for the boys together with other medicines, but not for a great deal would Kingdom have let the Indians know it; and he hoped that Tom would not find it out, either; for the truth was that Fish had drunk more than was good for him at Pittsburg. But all the savages ate of the meat which was placed before them, and Tom Fish, never neglecting an opportunity of this kind, made out a square meal also. The boys joining in, too, there was quite a feast.

One of the Indians, a good looking young buck, showed for Ree a warmer friendship than any of the others. He was the one whom the boy had mistaken for the chief of the party the day before. His name was Fishing Bird and the chief's name was Big Buffalo. The latter was far from showing entire friendship and a dispute arose between these two savages when Ree told them that he and John wished to purchase land.

Fishing Bird indicated that the boys must go to the great chief of their tribe, Hopocon, or Captain Pipe, as the whites called him, at the village of the Delawares. Big Buffalo, on the other hand, contended that he himself had power to sell land.

Ree rightly judged as he saw an ugly feeling between these two, that he had made a serious mistake when he had mistaken Fishing Bird for the chief the day before, arousing the other's jealousy very much. He thought now, that he recognized in Fishing Bird the Indian with whom he had grappled in the forest. If this were true, it was evident that that Indian, unwilling to confess how he had been vanquished, had said nothing to the others of his struggle with the escaped prisoner.

However, seeing that the land question might cause trouble, both Ree and John dropped it, having learned from the savages that a day's journey to the south and west would take them to the Delawares' town. They determined, therefore, to visit the village of Captain Pipe and talk with the great chief himself.

The afternoon was nearly spent before the Indians departed. They were scarcely gone when Tom Fish called Ree and John to him and the boys noticed for the first time that a great change had come over the old hunter, who for some time had little or nothing to say.

"Did ye see that fresh scalp hangin' at that Buffalo varmint's belt?" he asked. "That means blood. It means fightin'! I've seen many a Redskin, but I never seen a wickeder one than that Buffalo. An' there's no more play for Thomas Trout, which some calls Fish, my kittens, both! I tell ye now, that from what I seed, there was nothin' kept us out of a fight this day but the friendliness o' that chap Fishin' Bird. If Big Buffalo had a'

dared, he'd a' pitched onto us. Them's my honest sentiments; an' more'n that, did ye see the scalp at that red devil's belt? Don't tell me they ain't been on the warpath! Did ye see that scalp, an' the blood on it hardly more 'n dry? Oh, sorry day! Oh, sorry day--the blood on it hardly more'n dry. 'Cause I'm a plagued sight mistaken, kittens both, if I don't know whose scalp that is! Oh, sorry day!"

Tom's voice had sunk almost to a whisper and involuntarily John shuddered. The sinking sun cast thick, dark shadows in the narrow valley, and a death-like silence was broken only by the soughing wind and the tinkle of the brook.

These melancholy surroundings and the gruesome way in which Tom spoke, were enough to remove all cheerfulness which might have existed, but Tom said again, slowly and with a mournful emphasis, "I know--I know whose scalp it is, lads; an' the blood on it hardly more'n dry."

The rough woodsman put his arm across his eyes and leaned mournfully on his rifle, as he spoke.