eddies.

"You've been sharp to take me up on my forgetting of the landmarks, but
there is one I've not forgot," said I. "One day, about the time you were
getting yourself born, I was passing this way with my father and a
company of the county gentlemen. 'Twas in the Seven Years' War, and the
Cherokees were threatening us from the other side. The river was in
flood as it is now; and I mind my father saying that when you could see
that hole in the rock, Macgowan's Ford would be no more than armpit
deep."

"So?" said Richard; "then it behooves us to--" He stopped in mid
sentence, drew rein and shifted his sword hilt to the front.

"What is it?" I asked.

For reply he pointed me to a canoe half hidden in the bushes where
roadside and river-edge came together.

I laughed. "An empty pirogue. Shall we charge and run it through?"

"Hist!" said he; "that canoe was afloat a minute since. Mark the
paddle--'tis dripping yet."

As he spoke an Indian stood up in the bushes beside the pirogue, holding
out his empty hands in token of amity. We rode up and were presently
shaking hands with our old-time ally, the Catawba.

"How!" said he; "heap how! Chief Harris glad; wah! Make think have to go
to Sal'bury to find Captain Long-knife and Captain Jennif'. Heap much
glad!"

"Chief Harris?" I queried. "Who may he be?"

The Catawba drew himself up and drummed upon his breast.

"Chief Harris here," he answered, proudly. "The Great War Chief," by
which we understood he meant General Greene, "say all Catawba take
war-path 'gainst redcoat; make Uncanoola headman; give um new name.
Wah!"

At this we shook hands with him again, well pleased that our stanch ally
should have recognition at the hands of the general. Then I would ask if
he were on the way to raise his tribesmen to fight with us.

"Bimeby; no have time now; big thing over yonder," pointing across the
river. "Manitou Cornwally fool Great War Chief, mebbe, hey?"

"How is that?" said Dick; and the query elicited a bit of news to make
us prick our ears. The Catawba had been in the British camp at Forney's,
posturing again as a Cherokee friendly to the king's side. Some sudden
movement had been determined upon, though what it was to be he could not
learn. At the end of his own resources he had crossed the river in a
stolen pirogue to find and warn us.

"What say you, Dick?" I asked, when we had heard the Catawba through.

The lad was holding his lip in his hand and scowli