new pretty well all that was going
forward. He remained, however, without moving, as if in a sound slumber.

As soon as Uncle Jeff and I returned (we had accompanied our friends a
little way down the hill), Uncle Jeff addressed his small garrison.

"Putting all things together, lads," said he, "I believe these Redskin
varmints whom we have been hearing of for some days past will really at
last make an attempt to rob the farm; but I know that you will fight to
the last, and we shall manage to drive them off. There is no reason why
we should not feel confident of success. We have a good store of powder
and bullets, with trustworthy rifles and muskets; and what more, pray,
can men wish for?"

The men, one and all, promised to stand by him.

"That is all I want," he answered. "The first thing we have to do is to
barricade the lower windows and the doors, so that while we are
defending one side the Indians may not walk in at the other."

There were ten of us altogether, and having abundance of tools and
materials, we soon put the building in a state of defence, with
loopholes on all sides. Before the doors were finally closed, Uncle Jeff
told Bartle to bring in his favourite horse "Jack;" the remainder of the
animals had been turned loose to seek their own safety.

The day dawned, but as nothing had yet been seen of our expected
enemies, Bartle agreed to go out and ascertain their whereabouts as soon
as the sun rose above the horizon. Bartle was too old a scout to care
whether he had to approach an enemy in daylight or darkness; his only
object at present was to find out if the Indians were really marching
towards the farm.

While we were busily engaged in barricading the house, no one had
thought of our Redskin visitor. When last seen he was apparently wrapped
in slumber.

"I suppose we may count on Piomingo as one of the defenders of the
house; he probably knows how to use a rifle," observed Uncle Jeff, near
whom I was working. "Go and speak to him. Say that we expect him to do
his duty; and ask him if he knows how to load a rifle."

As soon as I had finished the work I was about, I went to where Piomingo
had been lying down. He was not there; I looked everywhere about for
him, but he had disappeared. No one had seen him leave the house, so
that, if he was not still within, he must have watched his opportunity
when our eyes were off him, and slipped out.

What his object was in coming, and then going away secret