hich to make a fight, and he turned to flee. The white
man heard him, and dashed through the gloom to gain sufficient sight to
warrant a shot. The fugitive must have been as familiar with the ground
as was his pursuer, for he showed no hesitation as to his course, nor
did he give any evidence of blundering.

He was so near the side of the inclosure that he had to run but a few
steps when he made a leap which lifted him several feet above the
obstruction, and it was this temporary elevation which gave the ranger
the chance he was seeking. At the moment the figure was at the highest
point of the arch, with his feet gathered beneath him, the ranger
brought his gun to his shoulder and let fly.

A flash, a resounding report, a rasping shriek that resounded through
the woods, and the Shawanoe sprawled forward on his face, with his hands
clutching the leaves and dirt, and then all was still.

"That 'ere varmint ought to have knowed that 'cause a man happens to git
bit by a rattler and takes an over-dose of antidote, it ain't no reason
for stubbin' your toe agin him, and thinkin' he's forgot how to shoot
off a gun."

"You managed that purty well, Jim," quietly remarked Weber Hastings,
appearing that moment at his elbow. "Glad to see you don't forget to
reload as quick as you kin."

"I larned that long ago; wonder if there are any more of the varmints
'bout."

"If there is, they'll be a little more keerful, but there's no saying
what'll be the next thing--sh!"

Through the arches of the forest stole the soft, tremulous notes of a
night bird--so faintly heard that even the trained ears of the ranger
could do no more than guess the distance.

"That's Kenton," he remarked, in a guarded voice; "I'm powerful glad of
it, for now something will be done."

CHAPTER XV.

A DARK PROSPECT.

Weber Hastings waited only a few seconds after hearing the soft,
tremulous bird call that stole among the leafy arches, when he replied
with an imitation so exact that it might well have been mistaken for an
echo of the first.

Nothing more was done, for that was sufficient. Groping around among the
"hornets' nests," as Kenton declared it to be, eluding the Shawanoes,
who seemed to be everywhere, the pioneer found it impossible to locate
his friends, until, as a last resort, he had recourse to the signal,
which he knew would be recognized by Hastings, provided it could be
projected to him.

Ten minutes later, the pioneer appeare