ttle further on.

These, as had been intimated, were the trails made by wild animals on
their way to the salt lick lying some distance on the other side of
Rattlesnake Gulch. The pioneers were now quite close to that ill-omened
spot, and the burden of the expedition rested wholly upon the shoulders
of Weber Hastings, who maintained a position never less than fifty feet
in advance of his nearest companion.

Hastings caught a faint, momentary rustling directly in front of him. He
instantly stopped and listened. It sounded the next moment further to
the right. He knew it made by one of the Shawanoes, who, with all their
skill, could not advance in perfect silence amid such gloom any more
than could the white man.

Suddenly he detected a different sound. It was as if something was
gliding over the leaves, and was accompanied by a delicate whirring
noise, which Hastings recognized on the instant, for many a time and oft
he had heard it before.

Those of our readers who have caught the warning of the rattlesnake can
make no mistake when they hear it a second time.

Another of those baleful reptiles was gliding across the path of the
pioneers, as if to apprise them of the appropriateness of the name of
the gulch, which was now near at hand.

The greatest annoying hindrance in this stealthy groping among the trees
was the condition of Jim Deane, who had taken a prodigious over-dose of
the universal remedy for the rattlesnake's venom. When in his sober
senses, he was one of the bravest and most skilful scouts in the west,
and was held in special high esteem by Capt. Bushwick, for whom he had
performed arduous and perilous service.

But, naturally enough, he was now another person, the opposite of
himself. In order to leave their escort free to attend to their delicate
task, George Ashbridge and his father took charge of Jim, and, in
assuming the contract, they found it was all they could do to "deliver
the goods."

Deane rallied after several stumbles, and managed to walk with less help
from the father and son, though he swayed from side to side and leaned
heavily upon both. He continued muttering and talking, partly to himself
and partly to those who were aiding him in locomotion.

"Going to the gulch--all right," he mumbled, when they were quite near
their destination, "want to go into the fort; that's the place for you
folks."

The scout stopped as suddenly as if he had run against the trunk of a
tree. Despite hi