of the party.

Nothing now but prompt determination could save them from being cut off
by overwhelming numbers, for if they were to hesitate, or waver in the
least, the Indians would be encouraged to make an attack. They
therefore calmly and deliberately blew up the fire, boiled their kettle
and had breakfast, after which the mule was loaded, and the party
prepared to cross the stream.

Before doing so, however, Rance and Jeffson, being the best marksmen,
advanced to the edge of the bank with two of the largest rifles and took
aim at the Indians, hoping by that means to frighten them away without
being obliged to shed more blood. In this they failed, for, the
distance being fully five hundred yards, the natives evidently believed
that it was impossible for a ball to tell at such a distance. On seeing
Rance point his rifle at them they set up a yell of derision. There was
nothing for it, therefore, but to fire. This Rance did, and one of the
Indians fell. Jeffson also fired and hit the chief, who reeled, but did
not fall. The savages immediately began a hurried retreat, and the
travellers refrained from firing, in order to convince them that all
they desired was to be allowed to go on their way unmolested.

The crossing of the stream was then effected. On mounting the opposite
bank it was found that the Indians had taken up their position, fully
armed, on the top of their huts, with an air of quiet resolution that
showed they apprehended an attack, and were prepared to defend their
homes to the death.

This, however, they were not called upon to do, for the travellers
turned off to the right, and pursued their way as if nothing had
happened. But two of the Indians had been badly hit, perhaps killed,
and the thought of this dwelt much on the minds of Frank and his friend
Joe all that day. Another thing that distressed them much was the
well-known custom of the natives to take their revenge at the first
favourable opportunity. It was a rule among them to take two lives of
white men for every redskin killed, and they were known not to be
particular as to who the whites might be,--sufficient for them that they
were of the offending and hated race. The fact that the innocent might
thus suffer for the guilty was to them a matter of perfect indifference.

The route over which the whites travelled that day chanced to be
unusually picturesque and beautiful. The path, or "trail,"--for there
was scarcely anything