haring what was left with him. The Sioux declined at
first, but yielded, and the remaining bread and milk furnished them a
grateful and nourishing repast. They did not use all, but saved enough
to supply another meal for Dot, whose appetite was sure to make itself
felt before many hours passed by.

Like most boys of his age in these later days, Melville Clarendon
carried a watch, which showed that it was past three o'clock in the
afternoon. This was considerably later than he supposed, and proved that
in the rush of incidents time had passed faster than he had suspected.

"What shall I do?" asked the youth, turning to the chief.

"Go--up up," he replied, pointing up the steps; "watch out. Red
Feather--he watch out here."

"Do you want Dot to stay with you?" asked Melville, pausing on his way
to the steps.

"Leave wid Red Feather--he take heap care ob pappoose."

"There can be no doubt of _that_," remarked the brother, as he bounded
up the stairs, resuming his former station near the window.

Looking out with the same care he had shown from the first, he found the
Sioux had grown tired of galloping round the house and buildings, or
they were plotting some other kind of mischief, for only one of them was
in sight.

He was seated on his pony on the crest of the hill from which the
signals were made to the Muddy Creek warriors. A moment's study of the
red men showed that his attention was directed not toward the west but
the north, in the direction of the settlement.

"He is now looking for enemies instead of friends," was the conclusion
of Melville.

The truth was, the youth was beginning to wonder why the settlers did
not come. If no accident had befallen his parents, they ought to have
reached Barwell several hours before, and a gallop of ten miles was only
a moderate ride for a party of horsemen eager to strike the marauders a
blow.

But the fact that they were not yet in sight set the youth speculating
as to what the result was likely to be if they did not come at all, or
rather, if their coming should be delayed until nightfall, for it was
not to be supposed that relief would not be sent sooner or later.

"There is only a faint moon to-night," he reflected; "and I'm afraid
that's against us."

The American Indian prefers to do his mischief in the dark, and, since
it would be impossible for the horsemen to conceal their approach, they
would be likely to suffer in the first collision with the red men.