tion appear.

"A while ago we heard the noise of a gun; our people are fleeing through
the woods, and the red men are following them. Alice is tired, and we
have stopped to rest. When we start again tomorrow, some of the red men
will be ahead of us. What shall we do without our friend Omas?"

"He have gun." he replied, indicating Ben.

"So have the red men, and there are more of them."

Now, if Mrs. Ripley was skilful in reading the thoughts of the Delaware,
it may be that he, too, suspected the real cause for her objections. Be
that as it may, it was plain he was not satisfied. He held the Ripley
family in too high regard to offend them openly; but Omas was set in his
ways.

He made no reply to the last remark, but stepped a little nearer the
fire and sat down, moody and silent.

"You have said enough, mother," remarked Ben in a low voice; "it will
anger him to say more. I will sit with my head against the rock; do you
lie down on the blanket and let your head rest in my lap. I think it
will be safe for us all."

With some hesitation the mother complied, the Delaware apparently paying
no heed to them. He kept his seat on the ground, looking gloomily into
the fire and in deep thought. A struggle was going on in his mind, and
no one could say whether the good or evil would win.

Ben Ripley was anxious that his mother should sleep. She had undergone
the severest of trials since early morning, and none had wrought harder
than she. The morrow would make further demands on her strength. As for
himself, he was young, sturdy, and could stand more and rally sooner
than she.

When, therefore, she said something in a low tone, he placed his hand
softly over her mouth and whispered--"S--h! go to sleep, baby."

He smoothed the silky hair away from the forehead so gently and so
soothingly that she could not resist the effect. She meant to keep
awake until Omas made his final decision; but no person can resist the
approach of slumber, except by active movement.

Before long, and while Ben's hand was still gliding like down over the
forehead, the faint, regular breathing showed she was asleep.

The son smiled.

"Good! The best mother that ever lived! Heavenly Father, watch over her
and spare her for many years. Watch over us all."

He looked across at Omas, on the other side of the camp fire, and saw
the Delaware gazing fixedly at him.

He arose as silently as a shadow and stepped nearer, peering down on the
pale, h