y had no difficulty in reaching Little Chillicothe. It was a large
town, of the Shawnee round bark houses, and surrounded by a rude
palisade fence. When all the families seemed to be asleep, and silence
reigned, they went inside--gliding here and there and wakening not even
the dogs.

Simon sought out his two comrades, and touched them, as a signal. They
followed him. At the edge of the town he had found the Shawnees'
horse-pound, or yard. It contained more than a dozen horses. The
opportunity was too good to be passed by. Nothing would do but that
they must have each a horse, upon which to ride back.

Even with that all might have been well, had they not waxed greedy.
Now they did a very foolish thing--the first of several foolish things.
Simon was determined to steal all; the two others agreed to it. They
rapidly fitted the hide halters that they discovered, mounted, and
began to lead and drive the loose horses through the opened gateway.

But the horses were wild; did not like the smell of white men. They
snorted alarmingly, and cavorted and reared. Dogs commenced to bark,
voices arose, inquiring and scolding; the three men worked desperately
with the stubborn animals. And suddenly the voices swelled.

"The horses! The Long Knives are here, stealing our horses!"

The town was in an up-roar.

"To the tall timber and keep goin'," Simon panted. "Lead all you've
got. I'll follow."

So instead of riding free, out they hustled, Clark and Montgomery each
with a fistful of halter thongs, Simon lashing and whooping and
laughing behind.

They dashed at top speed through the forest, never minding the
branches. They had seven horses. Such a mad-cap prank it was! The
village rang with the hue and cry, and the forest aisles echoed.
Presently the tumult died away. The blind course had plunged into a
swamp, and the three mischief-makers were forced to halt uncertainly.
They listened keenly. They heard no sound of pursuit. The town
evidently was reconnoitering.

So they side-stepped the swamp and resumed their own noisy route. They
did not stop again that night; they rested at day-break, long enough to
eat a few mouthfuls; all that day they rode, and all the night again;
with the morning they had arrived upon the bank of the Ohio.

They had left a trail plain enough for a five-year-old child to follow.
But here they were, and--

"Across the Ohio and we're safe, boys," quoth Simon. "Hooray! Didn't