him
violently down as though the brave were a great stone which he wished to
break.

Astonished, bruised, exhausted, the Indian lay as he had fallen. The
whole struggle had occupied but a minute or two, but it had been furious.
Both the combatants were panting like dogs. Now was Ree's opportunity. He
stooped down, grasped the redman's hand and shook it gently.

"We should be brothers. I would not try to kill you," he spoke in a low,
friendly way.

The Indian made no answer. Again Ree shook his hand, then picked up his
rule and walked rapidly away. Looking back, he saw the savage rising to
his feet and returning to the camp-fire. He was sure then that he had
made a friend of an enemy. But he lost no time. There were but a few
hours of darkness remaining to cover his escape while he searched for his
friends, and with every sense alert he hastened on, though faint and
weary from the violence of his exertions. He felt the necessity of
finding and giving warning to John and Tom and the thought kept him
going.

At last the morning came--slowly at first and then with a rush of light
which set the crows a-cawing and wood-birds singing; and still the
worn-out, lonesome boy looked in vain for his friends. But he wavered not
for a moment, though ready to acknowledge himself completely lost, and
thus, pressing on, he came soon after sunrise to the bank of a deep, wide
ravine. He remembered having crossed it the day he left John and Tom, and
soon he found a path leading down into the gully.

Assuring himself by careful scrutiny that the coast was clear, Ree pushed
through the bushes and trotted down the bank's steep side; and in another
moment came squarely upon the cart and the camp of his friends. But where
were John and Tom? Consternation filled the lad as he wholly failed to
find them, and as he also discovered that the camp-fire was no fire at
all--only a heap of dead ashes. Where was old Jerry, too?

A great fear came into Ree's heart, which was increased a thousand fold,
as in another moment he saw the faithful horse a few rods away--dead.
There was a bullet hole in the gentle, patient animal's head.

CHAPTER IX.

The Scalp at Big Buffalo's Belt.

A great lump came in Ree's throat as he looked upon the body of honest
old Jerry, and stood for a few seconds watching in a dazed, helpless way
the big blue flies which buzzed about the lifeless animal in the morning
sunlight. Then he saw for the first time that