account of rheumatiz," sighed Runner. "Rheumatiz has put more
hunters and fighters out of business than the Ohio Injuns ever did. And
poor Baby can't remember to always sleep with his feet to the fire. If we
could git him a stout pair of shoes to wear in place of them spongy
moccasins it would pay us."

Kirst was too grotesque to laugh at, and the settlers were grotesque when
they smiled at his ferocious appetite, and in the next moment tried to buy
the protection of his presence. Let him regularly patrol a dozen miles of
frontier each day, and I would guarantee no Indian would knowingly cross
his path.

More than one party of red raiders had unwittingly followed his trail,
only to turn in flight as if the devil was nipping after them once they
glimpsed his bulky figure, heard his whimpering or his loud laughter. The
men followed him to the Davis Cabin, each eager to contribute to the
general gossip concerning the child-man's prodigious strength.

As my horse was straying toward the west side of the clearing I went to
fetch him back and spancel him near the fort. I had secured him and was
about to ride him back when a rifle cracked close at hand in the woods,
and I heard a voice passionately jeering:

"I 'low that cotched ye where ye lived, didn't it?"

I drove my horse through the bushes and came upon a sickening scene. An
Indian man and a squaw were seated on a horse. On the ground was another
Indian. A glance told me he was dead from the small blue hole through the
forehead. The man and woman on the horse remained as motionless as if
paralyzed.

Isaac Crabtree stood reloading his long rifle, his sallow face twisted in
a smile of vicious joy. As he rammed home the charge I crowded my horse
against him and sent him sprawling. Turning to the Indians I cried:

"Ride away! Ride quick!"

"We are friendly Cherokees!" cried the woman in that tongue. "That man
there is called Cherokee Billy by white men." And she pointed to the dead
man.

With that she swerved the horse about, kicked her feet into his ribs and
dashed away, the man clinging on behind her, his dark features devoid of
expression. An oath brought my head about. Crabtree was on his feet, his
hand drawing his ax, his face livid with rage.

"Curse you!" he stuttered. "Ye sp'iled my baggin' the three of 'em!"

"You've bagged Cherokee Billy, the brother of Oconostota, the great chief
of the Cherokees," I wrathfully retorted. "It would have been well for t