w moments Half Hand seemed to bring the most of the Indians to
his way of thinking, and he again turned on the boys.

"Good white boys," he croaked, craftily. "Don't be 'fraid of Injuns.
Injuns won't hurt um."

"We are not afraid of you," returned Frank; "but you want to keep your
distance, or you will get hurt by us."

"Thot's roight, begorra!" cried Barney, fingering his Winchester. "It's
stoofed to th' muzzle, this ould shootin' iron is, wid grapeshot an'
canister, an' av Oi leggo wid it, there won't be a red nagur av yez left
on his pins."

"Injuns want to talk with white boys," said the half-blood, edging
nearer, inch by inch. "Injuns want to hold powwow."

"We are not at all anxious to hold a powwow with you. Stand where you
are!"

Up came Frank's rifle a bit.

It was plain that the red ruffians meant to make an assault, and the
moment was at hand. They were handling their weapons in a way that told
how eager some of them were to shed the blood of the boys.

Barney, in his characteristic, devil-may-care manner, began to hum, "My
Funeral's To-morrow." He seemed utterly unable to take matters
seriously, however great the danger.

A moment before the rush and encounter must have taken place, all were
startled to hear a merry, childish laugh, and a voice saying:

"I knowed I'd find tomebody tomewhere. I wants to tome down. Tate me
down, please."

On the top of the bluff, forty feet above the heads of the Indians,
stood a little girl, dressed in white. She had golden hair and blue
eyes, and, on her lofty perch, she looked like a laughing fairy.

"Mother av Mowses!" gurgled Barney.

"A child!" exclaimed Frank, astonished. "Here!"

The Indians muttered and hesitated. Half Hand still urged them on, but
it was plain that they believed there was a party of white persons near
at hand, and they feared to attack the boys. The urging of the
half-blood was in vain, and he was forced to give it up.

Then he turned fiercely on the boys, snarling:

"Good thing for you your friends come! They no come, we kill you and
take your guns! Mebbe we see you 'gain some time bimeby."

Then the Indians turned and quickly scudded away, soon disappearing from
view amid some pines.

Frank drew a breath of relief.

"That was a close shave," he muttered.

"Begorra! It was thot," nodded Barney. "Av it hadn't been fer th'
litthle girrul, we'd lost our scoolps Oi belave."

"The little girl!" exclaimed Frank. "She appeared li