r son Dick."

The widow's hands dropped by her side, and she would have fallen had not
Marston caught her.

"O mother dear, don't take on like that!" he cried, smoothing down the
widow's hair as her head rested on his breast.

For some time Mrs Varley suffered the boy to fondle her in silence,
while her breast laboured with anxious dread.

"Tell me all," she said at last, recovering a little. "Did Jim see--
Dick?"

"No," answered the boy. "He looked at all the bodies, but did not find
his; so he sent me over here to tell ye that p'raps he's escaped."

Mrs Varley breathed more freely, and earnestly thanked God; but her
fears soon returned when she thought of his being a prisoner, and
recalled the tales of terrible cruelty often related of the savages.

While she was still engaged in closely questioning the lad, Jim Scraggs
himself entered the cottage, and endeavoured in a gruff sort of way to
re-assure the widow.

"Ye see, mistress," he said, "Dick is a oncommon tough customer, an' if
he could only git fifty yards start, there's not a Injun in the west as
could git hold o' him agin; so don't be takin' on."

"But what if he's bin taken prisoner?" said the widow.

"Ay, that's jest wot I've comed about. Ye see it's not onlikely he's
bin took; so about thirty o' the lads o' the valley are ready jest now
to start away and give the red riptiles chase, an' I come to tell ye; so
keep up heart, mistress."

With this parting word of comfort, Jim withdrew, and Marston soon
followed, leaving the widow to weep and pray in solitude.

Meanwhile an animated scene was going on near the block-house. Here
thirty of the young hunters of the Mustang Valley were assembled,
actively engaged in supplying themselves with powder and lead, and
tightening their girths, preparatory to setting out in pursuit of the
Indians who had murdered the white men, while hundreds of boys and
girls, and not a few matrons, crowded round and listened to the
conversation, and to the deep threats of vengeance that were uttered
ever and anon by the younger men.

Major Hope, too, was among them. The worthy major, unable to restrain
his roving propensities, determined to revisit the Mustang Valley, and
had arrived only two days before.

Backwoodsmen's preparations are usually of the shortest and simplest.
In a few minutes the cavalcade was ready, and away they went towards the
prairies, with the bold major at their head. But their journey was
de