nty rods when, through the trees
and standing back to them, they saw a man. He appeared unconscious of
their presence. Yes, that must be Ferguson! The thought flashed
through the boy's mind and, unconscious of his own safety, his lips
opened to cry the alarm, which would have sounded his own death knell,
when he saw a tomahawk hurtle through the air and bury itself in the
man's brain. He fell to his knees without a moan. The Indian, leaping
to his side, had scalped him before Rodney realized what had happened.
Then, seizing the lad by the shoulder, he ordered him to "Run."

When they stopped the boy was breathless, but the savage was as cool
and snakelike in his movements as at the first. Soon they were joined
by other Indians. The boy was bound to a tree and they left him.

"They've gone to ambush our party," thought the boy. What would become
of him should the savages be driven off and he left tied to a tree in
that wilderness?

A squirrel running behind him startled him so the perspiration stood
in beads on his forehead. He tried to comfort himself with the
reflection that it would be better to starve to death tied to a tree
than to be burned to death tied to a stake.

He tugged at his bonds until the blood started on his wrists. A
rattling fire of musketry was heard in the direction of the river.
After a lull there were more shots followed by yells, which indicated
that the savages had been successful in driving off the whites.

All was still for many minutes. Then he felt, rather than saw, that he
was not alone. A heavy hand was laid on his wrists, untying the
thongs, and his captor's voice again ordered him to "March."

The moon had risen and its light filtered through the tree-tops.
Stumbling forward, and guided as before, he went on till they came up
with the main party of Indians.

He looked to see if there were other scalps, shuddering as he did so;
but, save that one at the belt of his captor, he saw none which had
been freshly taken. He therefore concluded the others of his party had
escaped in the boats, leaving him to his fate. There were other
scalps, but they were not from white people. Evidently the Indians had
been South and had battled with their hereditary enemies, the
Cherokees.

For several miles the Indians continued their march. Rodney was faint
from hunger and thirst when finally they camped for the night. Dried
venison was eaten, the boy receiving his share with the others, also
an op