e boy saw that the
quill had been cut with a knife, as the feather of a goose used to be
sharpened for a pen.

He suppressed the sharp exclamation that rose to his lips, and thrust
the feather into the bosom of his buckskin hunting shirt. The last echo
of the warning note came to him and then died away in the forest.

They were at the camp fifteen minutes later, and the eyes of Shif'less
Sol beamed at the joyous sight. In all their long journey they had found
no more pleasant anchorage, a sheltered cove of the Ohio, and firm
ground, clear of undergrowth, sloping gently to the water's edge. The
boats were tied in a great curve about the beach, and nearly all the men
were ashore, glad to feel once more the freedom of the land. Some still
sung the wild songs they had picked up in the West Indies or on the
Spanish Main, others were feeding fires that crackled merrily and that
flung great bands of red flame against the glowing yellow curtain of the
sunlight. Pleasant odors arose from pots and kettles. The air of frolic
was pervasive. The whole company was like so many boys with leave to
play.

Henry left Shif'less Sol and approached Adam Colfax, who was sitting
alone on the exposed root of a big tree.

"You found nothing, of course?" said Adam Colfax, who shared the easy
feelings of his men.

"I found this," replied the boy, drawing the eagle feather from his
breast.

"What is that? Merely the feather of some wild bird."

"The feather of an eagle."

"I fancy that many an eagle drops a feather now and then in this
wilderness."

"This feather was dropped last from the head of an Indian warrior."

"How do you know it?"

"See, the quill has been trimmed off a little with a knife. It was part
of a decoration."

"It may have fallen many weeks ago."

"It could not be so. The plumage everywhere is smooth and even. It has
been lying on the ground only a little while. Otherwise it would be
bedraggled by the rain or be roughened by the wind blowing it about
among the bushes."

"Then the feather indicates the presence of hostile Indians?" said Adam
Colfax thoughtfully. "I know by your manner that you think so."

"I am sure of it," said Henry with great emphasis.

"You're right, no doubt. You always are. But look how strong our force
is, men tried in toil and battle, and they are many! What have we to
fear?"

He looked over his light-hearted host, and his blue eyes, usually so
cold, kindled with warmth. One might