e man; but, at the first glance, I did not like his countenance. A
person unaccustomed to Indians cannot easily distinguish one from
another, although in reality they vary in appearance as much as white
men do; as does also the expression of their countenances.

"Are you going to the farm?" he asked, addressing me. He knew at once by
my dress that I was a settler.

"Yes," I replied. "Why do you put the question?"

"I wish to go there too," he answered. "I want to tell the Palefaces
living there that they are likely to be attacked by enemies who have
sworn to take their scalps, and that unless they run away they will all
lose their lives."

"You do not bring us news," I replied; "but you can accompany us to the
farm and speak to the white chief, telling him what you know--although I
do not think it likely that he will follow your advice."

"Come on, come on, Ralph," cried the lieutenant; "do not lose time by
talking to that fellow."

I quickly overtook my companion; while the Indian followed,
notwithstanding his tired appearance, at a speed which soon brought him
up with us.

As we rode up to the house, Uncle Jeff appeared at the door.

"What has brought you back?" he exclaimed, with a look of surprise.
"Glad to see you, at all events; for we have had our friend Winnemak
here with news sufficient to make our hair stand on end, if it were
addicted to anything of that sort. He declares that the Arrapahas are
coming on in overwhelming force, and that, unless we are well prepared
for them, we shall one and all of us lose our scalps. He has gone off
again, though, promising to make a diversion in our favour, as he has
been unable to get his people to come and assist in defending the farm,
which would have been more to the purpose. However, as you have
returned,--and brought your two deserters, I see,--we shall be able to
beat the varmints off. No fear of it, though they may be as thick as a
swarm of bees."

A few words explained how we had fallen in with the runaways.

The Indian who accompanied us then stepped forward. He told Uncle Jeff
that he was a Pawnee, that his name was Piomingo, and that, having a
warm affection for the Palefaces, he had come to warn us of the danger
in which we were placed, and to advise us forthwith to desert the farm
and take to the mountains, for that we had not a chance of defending it
against the numerous bands of Arrapahas who were advancing to attack us.
They had, he said, put to