in the sunrise. They
hustled to gather their little herd and drive them in--but remembering
their fright of yesterday, not an animal would take to the water. They
all balked, and scampered. Soon they were scattered on the back trail.

"By cracky, it's no go, boys!" Clark gasped. "Our time's up. I feel
Injuns. Let's mount and make off--for I tell you, scalpin' knives are
near."

"No, sir! Not a step without those hosses," vowed Simon. "I'll leave
not a one. We've 'arned 'em and we'll keep 'em."

"All right. Hosses and all, then. Hooray!"

Horseback, they started in to round up the loose animals, on the back
trail. They rode in a line, Simon at the middle--and he had gone
scarcely one hundred yards when he heard a halloo behind him, asking
him to wait.

Somebody was coming from their camping place; the hail had been in good
English, but he was suspicious. Nevertheless--

"Whoever you are, I'm your humble sarvant," Simon laughed, to himself.
"And for your politeness I'll give you as little trouble as possible."

Thereupon what did he do but dismount, and with his rifle in the hollow
of his arm leisurely stroll back in the direction of the voice! He had
full faith that he could take care of himself, afoot as well as ahorse.
In a moment he found himself facing three Shawnees and a white man,
riding straight for him.

He threw his rifle to his shoulder, for a scalp, and a signal shot to
his comrades. He drew fine bead upon the heart of the leading warrior,
pulled trigger--the dampened powder only flashed in the pan.

At the click and the sputter the four horsemen shouted and charged him.
Drat such a gun! All that he might do was to whirl and run like a deer
for the nearest thicket. He crashed into it, head-first; they could
not follow. He tore through, and was commencing to chuckle at his
success--when just out of the farther edge of the fallen trees and
tangled underbrush he bolted almost into an Indian, horseback,
galloping as if to overhaul him.

"The goose is cooked," thought Simon. He had had no time in which to
freshen his priming. He stopped short. He heard the sound of pursuit
in the jungle behind him. No use.

The Indian on horseback acted very good-natured; smiled widely, held
out his hand, as he approached, and greeted with: "Brudder. How-do,
brudder?"

"Consarn your yaller hide, I'd 'brudder' you if my gun would fire,"
thought Simon. But he did not say so. He leveled his pie