'pose dere's anything that'd make _me_ afeard of
dem Injins? Why, bless you, forty of 'em wouldn't dare to frow a stone
at me. I've licked free, four dozen of 'em, and dey all respect me
awful."

"I suppose so," rejoined young Leland, with mock seriousness.

"Last summer," pursued Zeb, "when you's down de river fishin', dere's
thirteen of 'em come up one day to borrer de wood-box. I s'pose dey
wanted to keep dar dogs and pappooses in it, and I 'cluded as how dey
warn't gwine to get it. So I told 'em I's very sorry dat I couldn't
'commodate 'em, but de fact war we wanted to put de wood in it
ourselves. When I said dat, one of de niggers begin to got sassy. I just
informed 'em dat dey'd better make demselves scarce mighty quick, if dey
didn't want dis pusson in dar wool. Dey didn't mind what was said,
howsumever, and purty soon I cotched 'em runnin' off wid de wood-box.
Dat raised my dander, and I grabbed de box and frowed it right over dar
heads and cotched 'em fast. Den I put a big stone on it, and kept 'em
dere free weeks, and afore I let 'em out I made 'em promise to behave
'emselves. Now I considers dat we'd better serve 'em some sich trick.
Tie two, free hundred to de fence, and leave 'em dere for a few months."

"You are welcome to try it," returned George, rather disgusted at the
negro's propensity for big story telling. He arose and passed within,
where the ample table was laid. Yet he could not eat the plain, sweet
food which Rosalind's own hands had prepared. The dreadful sense of
danger was too real a guest for any rest or peace of mind.

CHAPTER II.

THE NIGHT OF TERROR.

Few words were interchanged during the evening. George and Rosalind had
enough to occupy their minds, and Zeb, finding them taciturn, relapsed
into a sullen silence.

At an early hour each retired. Rosalind now felt more than George that
unaccountable presentiment which sometimes comes over one in cases of
danger. During the last few hours it had increased until it nearly
resolved itself into a certainty.

The view from the front of the house was clear and unobstructed to the
river, a quarter of a mile distant. Along this lay the cultivated
clearing, while the forest, stretching miles away, approached to within
a few yards of the rear of the house.

Rosalind's room overlooked this wilderness. Instead of retiring, she
seated herself by the window to gaze out upon it. There was a faint
moon, and the tree-tops for a considera