in--The repulse--The starting rally--The
desperate alternative--Relief.

The guidance of Sneak was infallible. Ere long the party reached the
vicinity of the river, which was indicated by the tall trees and the
valleys, and all apprehensions of immediate danger subsiding, they
slackened their pace.

Sneak, though not so much distressed as the panting horses, fell back,
and entered into conversation with Boone relative to the probable
operations of the Indians, while Joe continued some little distance in
advance, apparently wrapped in contemplation of the recent scenes that
had so much astonished him. When he was within about a hundred paces
of his long-wished for home, he thought he saw an object moving about
in front of the palisade. He checked his pony for an instant; but
convinced that the savages could not possibly have arrived already, he
again whipped onward, inclined to believe it to be nothing more than a
phantom of the brain. But when he proceeded a few stops farther, his
pony stopped suddenly and snorted, while a being, which he could not
exactly define, was distinctly seen to rise up and glide swiftly out
of view round the inclosure.

"Who's that!" shouted he, and at the same time looking eagerly back at
his companions, whose near approach induced him to maintain his
position.

"Go on, Joe! What's the matter?" remarked Glenn, the head of his steed
having passed over the back of the pony as he stood across the path
and blocked up the way.

"I beg to be excused! As sure as I'm alive, I saw an Indian run round
towards the gate!" replied Joe.

"Foller me," said Sneak, poising his spear in the air, and advancing.

"Thank Heaven, it's you!" exclaimed the mysterious object, coming
forward fearlessly, on hearing the men's voices.

"Dod rot your cowardly skin!" said Sneak, after looking at the
approaching form and turning to Joe, "how dare you to be frightened at
sich a thing as that--a female woman!"

"It was not me--it was my pony, you great--"

"What?" asked Sneak, sharply, turning abruptly round, as they paused
at the gate.

"You great long buffalo tapeworm!" said Joe, alighting on the side of
the pony opposite to his quarrelsome companion, and then going forward
and opening the gate in silence.

"What brings thee hither at this late hour, Mary?" inquired Glenn, on
recognizing the ferryman's daughter.

"Nothing--only--I"--stammered the abashed girl, who had expected only
to see our hero and his