ned by another
force under Colonel Benjamin Logan coming down the Licking. The united
army after camping on the north shore of the Ohio, on the site of the
present city of Cincinnati, would march straight for the Indian country.
Boone, Henry Ware and other accomplished scouts would go ahead and guard
against ambush. It was dark when the council ended, and when they
prepared to leave, Clark said in his most sanguine tones:

"If we do not strike a blow that will pay back Bird's and with interest
then I'm not fit to lead. Our Indian friends will find that though they
may destroy a village or two of ours their own villages will have to pay
for it. And this great invasion that they've been planning will have to
wait for another time."

"We'll strike, and you're the man to lead us," said the others.

It was night now and they stepped forth into the darkness. Henry passed
among the tents toward the edge of the woods where his comrades were
camped, and he saw a tall figure moving in the shadow of the trees. He
would not have looked twice at the figure had not something familiar
about it attracted his attention. It was the height, the breadth of the
shoulders, and a certain haughty poise of the head that struck him all
at once with the intensity of conviction. His friends had left him,
going their respective ways, but Henry immediately darted toward the
shadow.

The tall and dusky figure melted away immediately among the trees, but
the young forest runner pursued at his utmost speed. He did not doubt.
It was no figment of fancy. It was the great chief himself spying with
incredible daring upon his enemies. If he were permitted to escape, the
advance of Clark would be surrounded with numberless dangers. The
fertile brain and the invincible spirit of the great Wyandot would plant
an ambush at every turn. The thought made Henry increase his speed.

The figure flitted away among the oaks and beeches. Henry might have
called for help earlier, but he was now too far away for anyone to hear,
and, confident in his own strength and skill, he pressed on. The shadow
was running eastward, and the way grew rough. Yet he did not lose sight
of it flitting there among the trees. There was no swifter runner than
he, but the distance between them did not decrease. It seemed to him
that it remained always the same.

"Stop or I shoot," he cried.

The shadow did not stop and, raising his rifle, he fired. The figure
never wavered for an insta