es from his head, as he was nearing the bank; and when his feet
rested upon land, his unwearied and tenacious enemies were in the river,
boldly crossing toward him.

When the Indians reached the bank, Kent was already at a great distance,
yet they continued their pursuit, and had gone some distance, when the
first report of Leland's rifle reached their ears. This they mistook for
Kent's, and abandoning the trail, made directly toward it. The second
discharge of the young man's gun occurred when he was but a short
distance from them. Kent endeavored to warn him of his danger, but as we
have seen, it was too late. He himself was discovered and hotly pursued
to the boat, where he barely succeeded in making his escape.

Leland's captors took up their march toward the Ohio. Here, although
their captive was suffering intense agony, they forced him into the
water, and compelled him to swim across. Every stroke he thought would
be his last, yet he reached the shore in safety. The band set forward at
once. There were six savages, upon two of whom the duty of attending
Leland devolved. Yet he required little watching or attention. The
thought of escape was far from his mind; he was in a sad situation to
rebel or offer resistance. Both hands were firmly secured behind him,
and his strength was taxed to the utmost to keep up with his captors.

In the course of a couple of hours they came upon two of their
companions, seated around and amusing themselves with a negro. Each
appeared to enjoy himself prodigiously at the expense of the poor
African, who was boiling over with furious rage.

"Get out, niggers!" he shouted, "my head's split wide open now, sure!"

Here one of the savages amused himself by letting the end of a weighty
stick fall upon the head of the negro. The luxuriant wool caused it to
re-bound again, to the infinite delight of the tormentors, who smiled
horribly at it.

Leland recognized Zeb as he came up. It gave him a sort of pleasure, or
rather served to lighten his pain, to know that they were to be
companions in captivity. He could probably obtain information of
Rosalind, while the conversation of the slave might assist to keep off
the gloom which was settling over him.

"Gorra, ef dar ain't massa Leland," exclaimed the negro, turning toward
the approaching Indians. "High! whar'd _you_ come from, George? What did
you let 'em cotch _you_ fur?"

"Because I could not prevent it," returned he, with a faint smile