uld make a noise. They lay so
still that their boat never moved a hair and not even the wariest savage
on the river would have thought that one of their most formidable
enemies and two of his friends lay hidden in the canes so near.

"Look!" whispered Henry. "There is Braxton Wyatt!"

Henry and Paul were eager enough to see but the schoolmaster was
perhaps the most eager of all. This was something new in his experience.
He had heard much of Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, once a pupil of his,
and he did not understand how one of white blood and training could turn
aside to join the Indians, and to become a more ruthless enemy of his
own people than the savages themselves. Yet there could be no doubt of
its truth, and now that he saw Wyatt he understood. Evil passions make
an evil face. Braxton Wyatt's jaw was now heavy and projecting, his eyes
were dark and lowering, and his cheek bones seemed to have become high
like those of the warriors with whom he lived. The good Mr. Pennypacker
shuddered. He had lived long and he could read the hearts of men. He
knew now that Braxton Wyatt, despite his youth, was lost beyond
redemption to honor and truth. The schoolmaster shuddered again.

The boat--a large one--contained besides Wyatt a white man, obviously a
renegade, and six sturdy Shawnee warriors who were wielding the paddles.
The warriors were quite naked, save for the breechcloth, and their broad
shoulders and chests were painted with many hideous decorations. Their
rifles lay beside them. Braxton Wyatt's manner showed that he was the
leader and Henry had no doubt that this was a party of scouts come to
spy upon Wareville. It was wholly likely that Braxton Wyatt, who knew
the place so thoroughly, should undertake such an errand.

Henry was right. Timmendiquas, de Peyster and Girty as leaders of the
allied forces preparing for invasion in case Clark could not gather a
sufficient force for attack, were neglecting no precaution. They had
sent forth small parties to examine into the condition of every station
in Kentucky. These parties were not to make any demonstration, lest the
settlers be put on their guard, but, after obtaining their information,
were to retire as silently as they had come. Braxton Wyatt had promptly
secured command of the little force sent toward Wareville, taking with
him as lieutenant a young renegade, a kindred spirit named Early.

Strange emotions agitated Wyatt when he started. He had a desire to see