watch. "It is not one o'clock yet," he observed; "and
Bartle does not often make a mistake."

Just as he spoke, I saw the plumes of a chief's head-dress rising over a
point of rocky ground round which the road passed, and shortly
afterwards a band of painted warriors came into view. They approached
very cautiously, and gazed about them, as if expecting at any moment to
encounter an enemy. Finding, however, that none of us were visible,
they began to advance at a more rapid rate. Immediately afterwards I
saw another and a much larger party coming over the hill, who, as they
drew near, scattered themselves in every direction, so as to be able to
get under shelter behind the intervening rocks and shrubs.

"Tell the men to be ready," cried Uncle Jeff; "and charge them not to
fire until I give the word,--they must not throw a shot away."

I ran hastily round the building, and ascertained that every man was at
his post, prepared for whatever might happen. I then returned to Uncle
Jeff for further orders.

Presently an Indian belonging to the party which had descended the hill
advanced towards the house with a white handkerchief on a pole.

"The fellows have some pretensions to civilisation," said Uncle Jeff
when he saw it; "perhaps their white friends have put them up to that."

The Indian, having got within speaking distance, now halted; but seeing
no one whom he could address, he proceeded around the building,
apparently examining our preparations for defence. At length he again
stopped, having satisfied himself that the building was fortified, and
contained a garrison.

"Friends," he shouted, "do you want to lose your scalps? If not, march
out and leave this house to us. We mean to come in."

Uncle Jeff now appeared at the window opposite to where the Indian was
standing.

"Clear out of this, you rascal!" he exclaimed. "We do not intend that
you shall have our scalps, or get inside these walls. If you make the
attempt, you will pay dearly for it; that is what I've got to say."

The Indian seemed to recognise Uncle Jeff. "You, Jeff Crockett," he
shouted out, "you good man! If you like to go out you may go, and we
take scalps of rest."

Uncle Jeff burst into a loud laugh.

"That's a likely thing," he thundered out. "If it was not for your
white flag, I would treat you as you deserve."

The tone of voice in which this was said convinced the Indian that Uncle
Jeff was in earnest; and in no very dign