nd he did his share of the work
uncomplainingly, though an older man than the others.

One bitter day an Indian called. As there had been no alarm, the
entrance to the stockade had carelessly been left open and he readily
gained admittance. It appeared he had been with a hunting party, but
became separated from them and was nearly famished. He was given
something to eat and was then told to go along about his business. In
those days some Indians would hang around a settlement, living off the
bounty of the inhabitants, and these men didn't intend to encourage
the habit. A storm threatened and the Indian was loath to leave. Mr.
Allison took him to his cabin and kept him until after the storm was
past.

This act did not please the others of the party and one of them
remarked, "Ye'll find that handlin' lazy, sneakin' redskins is
different from teachin' school boys."

"I'm of the opinion there's human nature i' the whole o' them," was
the quiet reply.

The three men got along without unpleasantness until spring. One day
in March Peter Cogan went out to hunt and did not return. Later he
was found dead and scalped.

For the first time in his life the horror of Indian treachery in time
of peace was forced upon Mr. Allison's mind. He had fought them and
knew of their cruelty in time of war, but he had never lived on the
frontier and had supposed the stories of outrages somewhat exaggerated
and due to ill treatment. His views had been similar to those held by
the Quakers of Pennsylvania. Surely this fiendish deed was unprovoked.
With but two left, there was need of the utmost caution and neither of
the men ventured far from the stockade.

One evening in May several guns were discharged in succession outside
the enclosure. The first party from Virginia had arrived and the
warmth of their welcome may be better imagined than described.

"What of home?" were the first words.

"All well."

"But I thought to see the lad along wi' you," said Mr. Allison.

Then was told the story of the attack on the Ohio, when one man had
been killed and Rodney had disappeared, whether killed or captured was
not known.

"An' you left, deserted him!" he cried, and his cry sounded like a
scream. "Cowards each one o' ye! Who'll go with me to find the laddie?
Not one? Then I'll go alone."

It was with difficulty that he was restrained, and finally convinced
of the folly of such an undertaking.

"You have a wife an' child at home yet to car