here, watching the savages."

So they abode long in the hut on the haunted island, and had food and
warmth in plenty. But in the Indian villages there was the stir of
preparation for the great war trail in the spring, and also the sense of
mystery and oppression. Yellow Panther, the Miami, and Red Eagle, the
Shawnee, both felt in some strange, unaccountable way that they were
watched. Half-lost tracks of unknown feet were seen in the snow; strange
trails that ended nowhere were struck; three warriors, every one at a
different time, claimed to have seen a gigantic figure speeding in a pale
moonlight through the leafless forest; one of the bravest of the Shawnee
warriors was found dead, his head cleft so deep that they knew a mighty
hand, one of almost marvelous strength, had wielded the tomahawk. There
were signs of a terrible struggle in the snow, but who had attacked and
who defended they did not know, and the trail of the survivor was soon
lost. A mysterious dread filled both Shawnees and Miamis.

Braxton Wyatt raged at heart in the Shawnee village, and had theories of
his own, but he dared not tell them. It was known there that it was he who
had led the Miamis into the sacrilegious invasion of the haunted island,
and it would take his credit some time to recover from such a blow. To
reestablish himself thoroughly he must do valuable work for his red
friends on the coming great war trail. So he remained discreetly silent
about the haunted island, and told all he knew of the white settlements,
the Wilderness Road, and the way to trap the emigrant train. Here he could
really be of great assistance to the alliance, and he told the chiefs all
about the emigrants, how they marched, and how they would be encumbered
with women and children.

Meanwhile, the five never ceased their vigilance. Henry and Ross bought a
large quantity of ammunition from a Canadian trader whom they met on a
trip far to the north, and however much they used in the winter, they were
now assured of an abundance when they started southeast in the spring.

The winter was long and very cold. One snow fell upon another; one freeze
after another thickened the ice upon the lake; and when the wind blew, it
had the edge of a knife. But this could not last forever. One day the wind
shifted around and blew from the south. Paul, who was outside the hut
helping Jim Hart, felt a soft, warm breath on his face.

"Why, Jim!" he said, "the cold seems to be going a