d the wheelbarrow, across the handles of which lay the two
guns, ready for use if occasion should require. The Indians had halted
on one of the little eminences of the prairie, and appeared to be
watching the departure of the fugitives from their once happy home.
Lean Bear was evidently very fond of his little son, who was a boy of
bright promise, measured by the Indian standard. He had exhibited no
concern for the mother while she lay senseless upon the ground, but he
seemed to be willing to make any sacrifice, even to the curbing of his
ferocious nature, for Wahena's sake.

The party of Indians on the knoll appeared to be impressed with the
misfortune of their leader in the loss of his favorite son. Though the
work of rapine and death was still going on in the settlement, they did
not heed it. The messenger had probably represented to Lean Bear that
Wahena would certainly be killed if he attempted to molest the little
party, and the chief had withdrawn far enough to remove all temptation
on the part of Ethan to execute his threat.

The wheelbarrow was heavily loaded, and it was hard work for the
prairie boy to move it along over the soft soil. On a hill, just before
the descent to the lake commenced, he paused to rest for a moment. He
was in excellent spirits, and was proud of the success which had thus
far attended his stratagem. He was confident that he should reach the
island in safety, where, having the only boat on the lake in his
possession, he was satisfied that he should be able to defend himself
and his companion, especially with Wahena as a guaranty for the good
behavior of the Indians.

Ethan was entirely satisfied with himself, and he was about to resume
the march towards the lake, when his attention was attracted by a noise
in the direction opposite to that in which Lean Bear and his party had
retreated.

"Creation hokee!" shouted Ethan.

"What's the matter?" asked Fanny.

"Don't you see the Injins comin' out of the woods?" replied he, as he
grasped the rifle, and raised it to his shoulder.

"Ho, ho, ho! He, he, he!" yelled the band of savages, as they rushed
out of the covert of the trees, and ran towards the spot where Ethan
stood.

"We are lost!" gasped Fanny, almost overcome by this new peril.

"No, we ain't lost, Fanny. You keep a stiff upper lip. Lay right down
on the ground, behind the wheelbarrer, and don't let the varmints see
you. If they kim hyer, use that ere pistil."

One of the