ut him, for otherwise he would have deprived
him of it at the muzzle of the rifle; but surely it would seem he had no
cause to fear the youth, who could not have been his equal in strength,
activity or skill in handling such a weapon, though much his superior in
courage.

Jack Carleton was as self-possessed as if he were awaiting a friendly
wrestling bout with Otto Relstaub, though he knew that the assault meant
death to one, and the chances were against himself.

"He will bound like a dog at me," was the thought of Jack, who, after
the manner of a skillful boxer, kept his eye fixed on that of his foe,
in the hope of reading his purpose; "and I will make believe I am
bewildered by his style of attack (and may be I will be), but I'll jump
to one side, as he comes, and, with the help of heaven, will show what a
Kentucky boy can do when cornered."

Just then Jack Carleton smiled, and right good cause had he for doing
so.

CHAPTER XVII.

OTHER ARRIVALS.

The Indian warrior was the picture of ferocity, as he crouched a few
steps away, and, with his fingers griping the handle of his knife,
slowly drew it from the skin sheath at his girdle. The end of his
abstraction was the resolution to slay his captive then and there.

But, as the plucky youth faced the fierce red man and looked him in the
eye, he saw another form rising to view in his field of vision. It was
that of a warrior who slowly appeared behind the first, as if lifted
upward from the ground, and peeped over his shoulder into the face of
Jack Carleton. So perfect was the silence which marked the extraordinary
manifestation, that it was like the shadow made by the firelight itself.

Just beyond and a little to one side of the second form, a third came to
view, dimly revealed by the lesser firelight, but with a stillness of
movement as absolute as that of the other. Had it been otherwise, the
redskin would have discovered their approach.

The third Indian, indistinctly shown in the yellow glow, was recognized
by Jack as the Sauk Hay-uta; the second was Deerfoot the Shawanoe. The
latter smiled in his shadowy way, and shook one finger as a warning to
his friend not to betray the presence of himself and companion.

Looking in the face of his foe, as though addressing him, the lad said:

"It's all right; the next time I wish you would not be so slow in
getting here; if you'll keep still, I'll give this rascal a tussle that
he don't expect."

The war