ey three were up to all Indian tricks. They took
to the streams, they stepped from dry log to dry log, and from rock to
rock. On the afternoon of the third day they thought that they had
out-witted their pursuers, and halted to rest.

John Williamson stood guard. Captain Brady had only one fault, on the
trail: he was a prodigious snorer. He began to snore so loudly that
the very trees quivered.

"You're enough to alarm all the Indians betwixt here and Sandusky,"
John Williamson complained; and got up and turned him over, hoping to
quiet him.

John sat down again by the fire. Then he heard a twig crack, and
looked, and amidst the forest aisles he saw an Indian cautiously
stealing forward.

He did not move; he pretended to have heard and seen nothing. The
Indian stole on, rifle and tomahawk ready. John seemed to be
nodding--until, just at the right time, he whirled, leveled his own
rifle, it cracked sharply, and with a single bound the Indian crumpled,
dead.

Up sprang Captain Brady and Scout Wetzel, their own guns in hand.

"What's that?"

"A dead Injun. Get out o' here. There may be more--drat your
confounded snoring!"

They dived for shelter; but evidently the warrior had been alone, for
no others were seen until they had arrived at the Big Beaver, not far
north of Fort McIntosh which is to-day Beaver City.

By this time they were out of food. Captain Brady shot an old otter,
but the flesh was so musty that they could not eat it. Now the charge
in his reloaded gun was the only ammunition they had. He found a fresh
deer track in a narrow trail, and left them eating strawberries while
he followed the track.

"I'll bring back meat, or my name's not Brady," he promised.

He trailed the deer, and came upon it standing broadside while it
browsed. Good! He took aim, but the rifle flashed in the pan. Off
ran the deer.

"Tarnation!" muttered Captain Brady, and sat down to prick the
touch-hole. Then he determinedly set out after the deer.

He had gone only a little way, when at a bend in the trail he saw,
before him, a large Indian, horseback, with a white baby held in front
and a white woman on the horse's rump, behind. There they were,
coming, the three on one horse, the baby tied fast to the warrior.

Captain Brady sank down, out of sight. His quick eye had taken it all
in. The woman's face was bruised; her arm broken; her hair was flowing
loosely--she was a captive, and he _knew_ her! T