far North," said Shif'less Sol,
"'cause all the Indian nations in the valley are allied."

"He is not from any tribe at all," said Henry. "The prisoner is a white
man."

"A white man!" exclaimed Shif'less Sol, "an' you an' me, Henry, know
that most o' the prisoners who are brought to these parts are captured
in Kentucky."

"It's so, and I don't think we ought to go away in such a hurry."

"Meanin' we might be o' help?"

"Meaning we might be of help."

Henry watched the boats a minute or two longer, and saw that they were
coming directly for one of the little inlets on the north end of the
island. Moreover, they were coming fast under the long sweep of the
paddles swung by brown and sinewy arms.

"Tom," he said to Ross, "you go back for Paul. Tell Jim to have the sail
up and ready for us when we come, and meanwhile to guard the boat.
That's a white man and they intend to burn him as a sacrifice to Manitou
or the spirits of the lake. We've got to rescue him."

The others nodded assent and Tom hurried away after Paul, while Henry
and Sol continued to watch the oncoming boats. They crept down the slope
to the very fringe of the trees and lay close there, although they had
little fear of discovery, unless it was caused by their own lack of
caution.

The boats reached the inlet, and, for a few moments, they were hidden
from the two watchers, by the bushes and rocks, but they heard the
Indians talking, and Henry was confirmed in his opinion that they did
not dream of any presence besides their own on the island. At length
they emerged into view again, the prisoner walking between two warriors
in front, and Henry gave a start of horror.

"Sol," he said in a whisper, "don't you recognize that gray head?"

"I think I do."

"Don't you know that tall, slender figure?"

"I'm shore I do."

"Sol, that can be nobody but Mr. Silas Pennypacker, to whom Paul and I
went to school in Kentucky."

"It's the teacher, ez shore ez you're born."

Henry's thrill of horror came again. Mr. Pennypacker lived at Wareville,
the home of his own family and Paul's. What had happened? There was the
expedition of the harelipped Bird with his powerful force and with
cannon! Could it be possible that he had swept Wareville away and that
the teacher had been given to the Indians for sacrifice? A terrible
anger seized him and Shif'less Sol, by his side, was swayed by the same
emotion.

"It is he, Sol! It is he!" he whispered in intense e