l of his chums to go to the show, and was waiting for
them to show up and report. He stepped down on the lawn and took up the
nozzle of a sprinkler and turned it on a lilac bush, when suddenly
there was a yell that was unmistakably that of a Comanche Indian; and he
stopped and looked at the bush, and could plainly see a moccasin and
a leg with buckskin fringe on it, and he knew the boys were laying for
him, to scalp him and have fun with him; so he held the nozzle as his
only protection against the bloodthirsty band of savages, headed by
Chief Red Head, his nephew, but a bad Indian when off the reservation.
From behind an evergreen tree down by the gate there came a
blood-curdling yell, which was evidently from the throat of "Watermelon
Jim," a neighbor's boy, while from the wild cucumber vine on the south
porch came a noise like that of a pack of wolves breakfasting on a fawn.

"Surrender!" shouted a damp voice from behind the lilac bush, where the
hose was turned. "Surrender, or we burn down your ranch over your head!"
and a painted Indian, with red, short hair showing under the feather,
crawled toward a rosebush, where it was dry.

"Never!" said Uncle Ike, as he bit the stem of his pipe, and smiled at
the boys who were peeking out from behind the different hiding places.
"Your Uncle Ike often dies, but he never surrenders," and he cocked the
nozzle of the lawn sprinkler, and stood ready for the attack.

The red-headed Indian lit a parlor match and held it aloft, which was
apparently a smoke signal, for an Indian behind the porch appeared and
suddenly a swish was heard in the air, and a piece of clothesline with a
noose in it came near going over Uncle Ike's head; so near that it broke
his clay pipe, leaving the stem between his lips.

"Ah, ha! You will, will you? Vamoose!" said Uncle Ike, as he turned the
hose on the Indian with the lasso, and drove him behind the porch with
water dripping down his calico shirt, taking the color out. Then an
Indian near the gate began to fire blank cartridges with a toy pistol
and Uncle Ike put his elbow up in front of his face, as he said
afterward, to save his beauty, and Uncle Ike started toward that Indian,
dragging the hose, and shouting, "Take to the chaparral, condemn you, or
I will drown you out like a gopher!"

[Illustration: Take to the chaparral, condemn you 137]

For a moment there was an ominous silence. The Indians had withdrawn
behind the currant bushes, but Uncle