ribs."

My helping of pie was served on a huge china plate that had been packed
over the mountains with much trouble and when every inch of room was
needed for the bare necessities. Thus tenacious were the women in coming
to this raw country to preserve their womanliness. I might have thought I
was being favored had not Mrs. Davis frankly informed me that her few
pieces of china were shunned by her men-folks on the plea the ware "dulled
their sculping-knives."

Finishing my meal, I seated myself on a stump and proceeded to remove my
moccasins and mend them. Davis joined me in a similar task; for while it
required only two or three hours to make a pair of moccasins it was
necessary to mend them almost daily. Davis greatly admired the awl I
bought over the mountains, although it was no more serviceable than the
one he had made from the back spring of a clasp-knife.

A settler might be unfortunate enough not to possess a gun, but there was
none who did not carry a moccasin-awl attached to the strap of his
shot-pouch, a roll of buckskin for patches and some deerskin thongs, or
whangs, for sewing. While we sat there barefooted and worked we discussed
the pending big battle. He held what I considered to be a narrow view of
the situation. He was for having every valley act on the defensive until
the Indians were convinced they were wasting warriors in attempting to
drive the settlers back over the mountains.

While we argued back and forth those children having finished their dinner
took to playing at "Injun." The boys hid in ambush and the little girls
endeavored to steal by them without being "sculped." Along the edge of the
clearing were five or six sentinels. They were keeping only a perfunctory
watch, their eyes and ears giving more heed to the laughter and banter
than to the silent woods. At the northern end of the clearing some
lovesick swain surrendered to sentiment and in a whimsical nasal voice
began singing:

"Come all ye young people, for I'm going for to sing
Consarnin' Molly Pringle and her lov-yer, Reuben King."

The thin penetrating shriek of a child somewhere in the forest pricked our
ears, the clear falsetto of its fright silencing the singer and leaving
his mouth agape. I began drawing on my moccasins, but before I could
finish a wonderful transformation had taken place in the clearing. As if
the cry had been a prearranged signal, six of the young men filed silently
into the woods, movi