birth and training, but with
the white man's blood in his veins, offered to join the reconnoitring
party. He however was not ready just then to set out, but in a few
hours would follow and overtake the band at its night's encampment.

It was not safe to encamp directly upon the trail, lest some Creek
war-party should be passing along, and should discover them. It was
necessary to seek concealment where even the prying eyes of the savage
would with difficulty search them out. The cry of the shriek-owl is
exceedingly shrill, and can be heard at a great distance. A particular
spot on the trail was designated, near which Crockett would seek his
secret encampment. When Jack Thompson reached that spot, he was to
imitate the cry of the owl. Crockett would respond, and thus guide the
Indian to his retreat. As night approached, Crockett, with his party,
found a deep and dark ravine, where, encircled by almost impenetrable
thickets, he hid his men and the horses. No campfires could be built.
It was ten o'clock in the night when, in the distance, he heard the
signal shriek of the owl, a cry too common to arrest the attention of
any Indian bands who might be in the vicinity. Jack, guided by a
responsive cry, soon found the place of concealment, and there the
party remained through the night.

The next morning after breakfast they set out to join Major Gibson and
his band; but, in some way, they had lost track of him, and he could
not be found. Some were alarmed, as, in so small a band, they were
entering the domains of their powerful foe. Crockett taunted them with
their fears; and indeed fear kept them together. The party consisted
now of seven, including the Indian guide. Most of them determined to
press on. The two or three who were in favor of going back dared not
separate from the rest.

At the distance of about twenty miles, Jack Thompson told them that
there was a village of friendly Cherokee Indians. As he was leading
them through obscure trails toward that place, they came across the hut
of a white man, by the name of Radcliff, who had married a Creek woman,
and had been adopted into their tribe. The man had two nearly grown-up
boys, stout, burly fellows, half-breeds by birth, and more than half
savage in character and training. The old man's cabin was slightly
above the usual style of Indian wigwams. It was in a region of utter
solitude.

There Radcliff had taught his barbarian boys some of the arts of
industry. He h