ions
seemed to be allayed.

But in truth this chief, with the wonderful sagacity natural to
Indians, had observed matters which totally escaped the young
braves, and, like a wily old fox, he waited to see which cub would
prove the keenest. Not one of them, however, noted anything unusual.
They sat around the fire, ate their meat and parched corn, and
chatted volubly.

The chief arose and, walking to the ladder, ran his hand along one
of the rungs.

"Ugh!" he exclaimed.

Instantly he was surrounded by ten eager, bright-eyed braves. He
extended his open palm; it was smeared with wet clay like that under
his feet. Simultaneously with their muttered exclamations the braves
grasped their weapons. They knew there was a foe above them. It was
a paleface, for an Indian would have revealed himself.

The hunter, seeing he was discovered, acted with the unerring
judgment and lightning-like rapidity of one long accustomed to
perilous situations. Drawing his tomahawk and noiselessly stepping
to the hole in the loft, he leaped into the midst of the astounded
Indians.

Rising from the floor like the rebound of a rubber ball, his long
arm with the glittering hatchet made a wide sweep, and the young
braves scattered like frightened sheep.

He made a dash for the door and, incredible as it may seem, his
movements were so quick he would have escaped from their very midst
without a scratch but for one unforeseen circumstance. The clay
floor was wet and slippery; his feet were hardly in motion before
they slipped from under him and he fell headlong.

With loud yells of triumph the band jumped upon him. There was a
convulsive, heaving motion of the struggling mass, one frightful cry
of agony, and then hoarse commands. Three of the braves ran to their
packs, from which they took cords of buckskin. So exceedingly
powerful was the hunter that six Indians were required to hold him
while the others tied his hands and feet. Then, with grunts and
chuckles of satisfaction, they threw him into a corner of the cabin.

Two of the braves had been hurt in the brief struggle, one having a
badly wrenched shoulder and the other a broken arm. So much for the
hunter's power in that single moment of action.

The loft was searched, and found to be empty. Then the excitement
died away, and the braves settled themselves down for the night. The
injured ones bore their hurts with characteristic stoicism; if they
did not sleep, both remained quiet and