e valley. He was in the nick of time. A
rifle cracked and a bullet threw up the ashes and sent the sparks flying
where his head had been just a second before.

With the speed of the wind Ree ran in the direction from which the shot
had come, his own rifle cocked and ready. He thought he heard some one
making off in the darkness as he reached the top of the hill, but whether
white man or Indian--Delaware or Mingo, he could not tell. He called out
a command to halt, but no attention was given his order for the uncertain
sound of fleeing footsteps continued. He chanced a shot in the direction
of the unknown enemy, although he realized it would probably do no good.

While he reloaded his rifle Ree stepped behind a tree, and a few seconds
later John came running up. As it was too dark to continue the chase,
both boys returned to camp, stopping in the ravine to secure a fire brand
to start a blaze to prepare their supper. In vain did John ask questions
as to whom Ree believed the would-be murderer was; they could not be
answered, for, as Ree said, he had not seen the person.

Tom Fish, disconsolate as he well could be, sat on a big bundle of
merchandise as the boys rejoined him.

"It's sure death to stay here, lads," were the first words he said, and
his tone was not calculated to make the young travelers comfortable; but
resolving to look on the brighter side, Ree cheerily answered:

"A man is in some danger wherever he is. We will all feel better when we
smell some venison on the hot coals. And just wait till we get our cabin
built! We are going to get some beans and late squashes from the Indians,
and bake some corn bread, and have a regular old-fashioned Connecticut
supper!"

"Did ye hit him, d'ye think, Ree?" asked Tom, brightening up.

"No, but he scared him into eleven kinds of fits," John answered for his
friend, catching the spirit of the latter's courage and enthusiasm.

"It ain't that I am caring for myself. Tom Fish, or Tom Trout didn't ever
lose a wink o' sleep bein' afraid he couldn't look out for number one,"
the woodsman went on. "But after--after that--thing we saw the other
day--but I guess we've got our appetites left," he said, suddenly
changing the subject.

It was not long until the supper was ready and eaten and all did feel
much the better for it, as Ree had predicted. The ordinary noises of the
forest, the howling of wolves, in pursuit of some poor deer, perhaps, the
far-away shriek of a pant