slowly approaching with his eyes
intently fixed on the ground, carefully inspecting the track of his
moccasins, left in the soft earth as he returned to his hut the evening
before. He instantly cocked his gun, stepped behind a tree, and waited
till the Indian came within the sure range of his shot. He then fired and
the Indian fell. Rushing from the cover on his prostrate foe, he was about
to apply the scalping knife; but seeing the shining silver broaches, and
broad bands on his arms, he fell to cutting them loose, and tucking them
into the bosom of his hunting shirt. While busily occupied in securing the
spoils, the sharp crack of a rifle and the passage of the ball through the
bullet pouch at his side, caused him to look up, when he saw three Indians
within a hundred yards of him. They being too numerous for him to
encounter, he seized his rifle and took to flight. The other two, as he
ran, fired at him without effect. The chase was continued for several
miles by two of the Indians, who were the swiftest runners. He often
stopped and "treed," hoping to get a shot and kill or disable one of them,
and then overcome the other at his leisure. His pursuers also "treed," and
by flanking to the right and left, forced him to uncover or stand the
chance of a shot.

He finally concluded to leave the level grounds, on which the contest had
thus far been held, and take to the high hills which lie back of the
bottoms. His strong, muscular limbs here gave him the advantage, as he
could ascend the steep hill sides more rapidly than his pursuers. The
Indians, seeing they could not overtake him, as a last effort stopped and
fired. One of the balls cut away the handle of his hunting-knife, jerking
it so violently against his side, that for a moment he thought he was
wounded. He immediately returned the fire, and, with a yell of vexation,
they gave up the chase.

Fleehart made a circuit among the hills, and just at dark came in to the
river, near where the canoe lay hid. Springing lightly on board, he
paddled down stream. Being greatly fatigued with the efforts of the day,
he lay down in the canoe, and when he awoke in the morning the boat was
just entering the Ohio river. Crossing over to the southern shore, he, in
a few days, pushed his canoe up to Farmer's Castle, without further
adventure, where he showed the rich packages of peltry, as the proceeds of
his winter's hunt, and displayed the brilliant silver ornaments, as
trophies o