ds where the ex-mate
seemed to be in some predicament, as he did not stand up, but was
half-sitting, half-lying on the ground, resting his head on one arm as
he waved the other to the young engineer.

"Hullo! what's the matter?" asked Ernest, calling out before he reached
him.

"Injuns--been wounded," said Seth, in his usual curt, laconic way.

"Gracious me!" exclaimed Ernest, quite taken aback by the announcement.
"Indians! And where is Sailor Bill?"

"The durned cusses have carried him off!" said Seth with a sob. "I'd a
follered and got him back," added the ex-mate to Mr Rawlings, who now
came up, with Jasper at his heels--the negro almost turning white with
terror at the very name of the Indians being mentioned, and shaking in
his shoes,--"I'd a follered an' got him back, yes sir! But them durned
cusses have sent an arrowhead through my karkuss, and well-nigh broken
my fut as well!"

STORY ONE, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

ON THE TRAIL.

"Where are you wounded?" asked Mr Rawlings, bending over Seth, who
seemed to suffer considerable pain, although he endeavoured stoically to
suppress all expression of it.

"In my side, haar," replied the other, pointing to where the feathered
end of an arrow could be seen protruding from his shirt; "and if yer cut
off the tail of the cussed thing, I reckon you ken pull it slick
through, as the head's comed out ahint me. But it's only a flesh wound,
and ain't up to much, for it didn't touch my ribs."

"Well," said Mr Rawlings, "you're a bit of a doctor, Seth, and ought to
know if anybody does."

"Yes, it's only a scratch, I'm sartain, or I would ha' felt it more. My
fut's the wussest of the two. But, lor' sakes!" added Seth, trying to
get on his legs, and quivering with excitement, although the attempt was
futile, and he had to sink back again into his half-sitting,
half-kneeling posture with a groan--"don't you stop here a consulting
about me, Rawlings, when that poor boy's life's in peril. You and
Wilton had best skate off at once and foller up them redskins as has
Sailor Bill. I ken bide waal enuf till you gits back again, old man,
along with Jasper, who can do all I wants."

"We won't neglect the boy," said Mr Rawlings, struck with Seth's
unselfishness in ignoring his own wounded condition under the
consciousness of his protege's danger, "but we must think of you all the
same first." And kneeling down by the injured man's side, he proceeded,
with Ernest Wilton's