in a hundred miles of them, and, if so, it
could only be a wandering hunter or two, who would flee from this fierce
band of Senecas who bad taken revenge for the great losses that they'
had suffered the year before at the Oriskany.

They kept very little watch and built only a small fire, just enough
for broiling deer meat which they carried. They drank at a little spring
which ran from under a ledge near them, and gave portions of the meat to
the woman and children. After the woman had eaten, they bound her hands,
and she lay back on the grass, about twenty feet from the camp fire. Two
children lay on either side of her, and they were soon sound asleep. The
warriors, as Indians will do when they are free from danger and care,
talked a good deal, and showed all the signs of having what was to them
a luxurious time. They ate plentifully, lolled on the grass, and looked
at some hideous trophies, the scalps that they carried at their belts.
The woman could not keep from seeing these, too, but her face did not
change from its stony aspect of despair. Then the light of the fire went
out, the sun sank behind the mountains, and the five could no longer see
the little group of captives and captors.

They still waited, although eagerness and impatience were tugging at the
hearts of every one of them. But they must give the Indians time to
fall asleep if they would secure rescue, and not merely revenge. They
remained in the bushes, saying but little and eating of venison that
they carried in their knapsacks.

They let a full three hours pass, and the night remained dark, but
with a faint moon showing. Then they descended slowly into the valley,
approaching by cautious degrees the spot where they knew the Indian camp
lay. This work required at least three quarters of an hour, and they
reached a point where they could see the embers of the fire and the dark
figures lying about it. The Indians, their suspicions lulled, had put
out no sentinels, and all were asleep. But the five knew that, at the
first shot, they would be as wide awake as if they had never slept, and
as formidable as tigers. Their problem seemed as great as ever. So they
lay in the bushes and held a whispered conference.

"It's this," said Henry. "We want to save the woman and the children
from the tomahawks, and to do so we must get them out of range of the
blade before the battle begins." "How?" said Tom Ross.

"I've got to slip up, release the woman, arm her,