ming hitherward, he retreated
precipitately, and reached home this morning. Excessive fatigue and
illness prevented him from accompanying me over the river; and what is
worse, nearly every man in our settlement is at present more than a
hundred miles up the river, trapping beaver. If we are attacked
to-night, or even within a day or two, we have nothing to depend upon
but our own force to defend ourselves."

"Should it be so, I doubt not we will be able to withstand them as
successfully as we did before," said Glenn.

"Let us go with Roughgrove to his house, and take his daughter and his
effects to your little fortress," said Boone, joining the old
ferryman, whom a single word sufficed to apprize of the state of
affairs.

"I must prepare for the worst, now," said Roughgrove; "they will never
forget or forgive the part I acted on the night of their defeat."

Boone, Glenn, and Roughgrove proceeded down the valley, while Joe
seemed disposed to loiter, undetermined what to engage in, having cast
an occasional curious glance at Boone and his master when engaged in
their low conversation, and rightly conjecturing that "something wrong
was in the wind," as he expressed it.

"Why don't you go home?" asked Sneak, rolling the dead body into the
grave, and dashing the mingled earth and snow remorselessly upon it.

"I'll go when I'm ready," replied Joe; "but I should like to know what
all that whispering and nodding was about."

"I can tell you," said Dan; but his speech was suddenly arrested by a
sign from Sneak.

"I wish you would tell me," continued Joe, manifesting no little
uneasiness.

"Have you got a plenty to eat at your house?" asked Sneak.

"To be sure we have," said Joe; "now tell me what's in the wind."

"If I was to tell you, I bet you'd be frightened half to death,"
remarked Sneak, driving down a headstone, having filled up the grave.

"No! no--I--indeed but I wouldn't, though!" said Joe, trembling at
every joint, the true cause, for the first time, occurring to him.
"Ain't it Indians, Mr. Sneak?"

"Don't call me _Mister_ agin, if you please. There are more moccasins
than the one you found in these parts, that's all."

"I'll go home and tell Mr. Glenn!" said Joe, whirling round quickly.

"Dod rot your cowardly hide of you!" said Sneak, staring at him
contemptuously; "now don't you _know_ he knowed it before you did?"

"Yes--but I was going home to tell him that some bullets must be
run--that's what