ed, wagging his head in an opposite direction, from which
another squad was approaching.

That he duly appreciated the situation appeared only in the celerity
with which he acted.

Kenton at once assumed command, and his companions felt his perfect
fitness. There was no doubt from the first as to what the Indians
meant; but even if there had been it would have soon vanished; for in
less than three minutes twenty-one savages were swiftly and silently
forming a circle inclosing the spot where the three white men, who had
covered themselves as best they could with trees, waited in grim
steadiness for the worst.

Quite beyond gunshot range, but near enough for Oncle Jazon to
recognize Long-Hair as their leader, the Indians halted and began
making signs to one another all round the line. Evidently they dreaded
to test the marksmanship of such riflemen as they knew most border men
to be. Indeed, Long-Hair had personal knowledge of what might certainly
be expected from both Kenton and Oncle Jazon; they were terrible when
out for fight; the red warriors from Georgia to the great lakes had
heard of them; their names smacked of tragedy. Nor was Beverley without
fame among Long-Hair's followers, who had listened to the story of his
fighting qualities, brought to Vincennes by the two survivors of the
scouting party so cleverly defeated by him.

"The liver-colored cowards," said Kenton, "are afeared of us in a
shootin'-match; they know that a lot of 'em would have to die if they
should undertake an open fight with us. It's some sort of a sneakin'
game they are studyin' about just now."

"I'm a gittin' mos' too ole to shoot wo'th a cent," said Oncle Jazon,
"but I'd give half o' my scalp ef thet Long-Hair would come clost
enough fo' me to git a bead onto his lef' eye. It's tol'ble plain 'at
we're gone goslins this time, I'm thinkin'; still it'd be mighty
satisfyin' if I could plug out a lef' eye or two 'fore I go."

Beverley was silent; the words of his companions were heard by him, but
not noticed. Nothing interested him save the thought of escaping and
making his way to Clark. To fail meant infinitely more than death, of
which he had as small fear as most brave men, and to succeed meant
everything that life could offer. So, in the unlimited selfishness of
love, he did not take his companions into account.

The three stood in a close-set clump of four or five scrub oaks at the
highest point of a thinly wooded knoll that slope