ir faces. I know they would look jest like the faces o'
wolves, when somethin' good had slipped from between their teeth."

Paul and Henry were busy reviving Mr. Pennypacker. They threw fresh
water from the lake over his face and poured more down his throat. As
they worked with him they noted his emaciated figure. He was only a
skeleton, and his fainting even in so short a flight was no cause for
wonder. Gradually he revived, coughed and sat up.

"I fell," he said. "It was because I was so weak. What has happened? Are
we not moving?"

His eyes were yet dim, and he was not more than half conscious.

"You are with us, your friends. You remember?" said Henry. "We rescued
you at the place of the stakes, and we all got away unhurt. We are in a
boat now sailing over Lake Erie."

"And I saved you a rifle and ammunition," said Paul. "Here they are,
ready for you when you land."

Mr. Pennypacker's dim eyes cleared, and he gazed at the two youths in
wonder and affection.

"It is a miracle--a miracle!" he said. Then he added, after a moment's
pause: "To escape thus after all the terrible things that I have seen!"

Henry shivered a little, and then he asked the fateful questions.

"And what of Wareville, Mr. Pennypacker? Has it been destroyed? Do
Paul's people and mine still live? Have they been taken away as
captives? Why were you a prisoner?"

The questions came fast, then they stopped suddenly, and he and Paul
waited with white faces for the answers.

"Wareville is not destroyed," replied Mr. Pennypacker. "An English
officer named Bird, a harelipped man, came with a great force of
Indians, some white men and cannon. They easily took Martin's and
Ruddle's stations and all the people in them, but they did not go
against Wareville and other places. I think they feared the power of the
gathering Kentuckians. I was at Martin's Station on a visit to an old
friend when I was captured with the others. Bird and his army then
retreated North with the prisoners, more than three hundred in number,
mostly women and children."

The old man paused a moment and put his hands over his face.

"I have seen many terrible things," he resumed, "and I cannot forget
them. They said that we would be taken to Detroit and be held as
prisoners there, but it has been a long and terrible march, many
hundreds of miles through the wilderness, and the weak ones--they were
many--could not stand it. They died in the wilderness, often under the
Ind