onded Alfred. "I am fond of horses, and think I can ride a
little myself. I am afraid I shall be compelled to change my mind."

"That is a fine animal you rode from Fort Pitt," remarked the Major.
"I would like to own him."

"Come, draw your chairs up and he'll listen to Isaac's story," said
Colonel Zane.

"I have not much of a story to tell," said Isaac, in a voice still
weak and low. "I have some bad news, I am sorry to say, but I shall
leave that for the last. This year, if it had been completed, would
have made my tenth year as a captive of the Wyandots. This last
period of captivity, which has been nearly four years, I have not
been ill-treated and have enjoyed more comfort than any of you can
imagine. Probably you are all familiar with the reason for my long
captivity. Because of the interest of Myeerah, the Indian Princess,
they have importuned me for years to be adopted into the tribe,
marry the White Crane, as they call Myeerah, and become a Wyandot
chief. To this I would never consent, though I have been careful not
to provoke the Indians. I was allowed the freedom of the camp, but
have always been closely watched. I should still be with the Indians
had I not suspected that Hamilton, the British Governor, had formed
a plan with the Hurons, Shawnees, Delawares, and other tribes, to
strike a terrible blow at the whites along, the river. For months I
have watched the Indians preparing for an expedition, the extent of
which they had never before undertaken. I finally learned from
Myeerah that my suspicions were well founded. A favorable chance to
escape presented and I took it and got away. I outran all the
braves, even Arrowswift, the Wyandot runner, who shot me through the
arm. I have had a hard time of it these last three or four days,
living on herbs and roots, and when I reached the river I was ready
to drop. I pushed a log into the water and started to drift over.
When the old dog saw me I knew I was safe if I could hold on. Once,
when the young man pointed his gun at me, I thought it was all over.
I could not shout very loud."

"Were you going to shoot?" asked Colonel Zane of Clarke.

"I took him for an Indian, but fortunately I discovered my mistake
in time," answered Alfred.

"Are the Indians on the way here?" asked Jonathan.

"That I cannot say. At present the Wyandots are at home. But I know
that the British and the Indians will make a combined attack on the
settlements. It may be a month, or a