ver. Ward and the girl were gone. The dead
Indian and dog were partly in view among the weeds beside the lick-block.
The gown of the dead woman made a little patch of melancholy color against
the green of the grass and ranker ground growth. Granville had been
dragged behind some bushes to be scalped. I came near firing when I beheld
two Shawnees making for the timber.

"Fellers we potted," murmured Cousin. "They've hitched cords to 'em an'
are draggin' 'em to the woods so's no one'll git their hair."

From the Granville cabin a gun roared loudly; and an Indian, clawing at
his bloody breast, shot up in the heart of a clump of bushes and pitched
forward on his face.

"Lawdy! But the Englisher must 'a' used 'bout a pint o' buckshot!"
exclaimed Cousin admiringly. "Pretty smart, too! He traced the cord back
to where th' Injun was haulin' on it, an' trusted to his medicine to make
the spreadin' buckshot fetch somethin'. Wish he had smoothbores an' a few
pounds o' shot!"

Yells of rage and a furious volley against the two cabins evidenced how
the enemy viewed the Englishman's success. Again the smoothbore roared and
a handful of balls scoured another thicket. A warrior leaped from cover
and started to run to the woods. Cousin shot him off his feet before he
could make a rod.

Our admiration for the smoothbore and its wholesale tactics was beyond
expression. The Indians, also, thoroughly appreciated its efficacy, and
there was a general backward movement toward the woods. No savage showed
himself except for a flash of bronze leg, or the flutter of a hand, too
transient for even Cousin to take advantage of. The Englishman fired
again, but flushed no game.

"We oughter be goin'," Cousin mused. "But the ridge behind us is still
alive with 'em. Reckon we must wait till it gits dark."

"Wait till night? Oh, I can't do that!" I cried.

"Your gal may be skeered to death, but she ain't been hurt any yet," he
encouraged. "She's safe till they git her back to the towns. Black Hoof is
too smart to hurt her now. If he gits into a tight corner afore he reaches
the Ohio he'll need her to buy an open path with. She ain't in no danger
s'long as he wants her on hand to swap if the settlers git him penned."

"No danger? And in the hands of that damned renegade!"

"Catahecassa is boss o' that band. Ward was only a spy. They may burn your
gal when they git back on the Scioto where every one can enjoy it. But she
won't be hurt any this s