us Black Hoof talking--was in
the Shawnee tongue. Dale faced to the cabins and fort and triumphantly
interpreted it. From deep in the forest came a pulsating cry, the farewell
of the marauders, as they swiftly fell back toward New River. I was
suspicious of some Indian trick and yelled a warning for the men to keep
in the cabins.

Dale became very angry, and upbraided me:

"It's the like of you that spoils the Indian's heart. You men have heard
what the Black Hoof says. You men and women of Howard's Creek are foolish
to believe this young fool's words. The Shawnees have gone. You heard
their travel-cry. They have left none behind to harm by treachery. I told
you I could keep the Indians from attacking this settlement. Could your
friends, the killers, have sent them away so quickly? I think not. Open
your doors. Light your candles. Make merry if you will. There is nothing
in the forest to harm you."

"Keep inside till I and some of the young men have scouted the woods.
Three men from the fort will be enough," I loudly shouted.

Dale was furious, but that was nothing when the women and children had to
be remembered. Soon a soft pattering of moccasins, and three youths stood
before me. Choosing one, I set off in the direction the Indians apparently
had taken. The other two were to separate, one scouting south and the
other north, to discover any attempt at a surprise attack by swinging back
to the creek in a half-circle.

My companion and I, although hampered by the darkness, penetrated some
miles toward New River. In returning, we separated, one swinging south and
the other north. The first morning light was burning the mists from the
creek when I reentered the clearing. My companion came in an hour later.
The other two had returned much earlier, having had a much shorter course
to cover. We all made the same report; no signs of Indians except those
left by them in their retreat.

I sat outside the Davis cabin and Patsy brought me some food. She was very
proud of her father and carried her small figure right grandly. Her
attitude toward the women was that of a protector; and they, dear souls,
so thankful to be alive, so eager to accept the new faith, fairly
worshiped the girl.

The one exception was the Widow McCabe. She paid homage to no one. And
while she said nothing to the chorus of admiring exclamations directed at
the trader there was the same cold glint in the slate-gray eyes, and she
walked about with her