qually
faithful fifty, and they closed up on the flank of the allied tribes, and
stung and stung. Henry Ware, through the drifting clouds of smoke and
vapor, saw the savages waver again, and, shouting to the boldest to
follow, he rushed forward. Then Shawnees, Miamis, and Wyandots, despite
the fierce commands of Yellow Panther and Red Eagle, broke and fled from
the water to the shore. There Tom Ross stung them more fiercely than ever
on the flank, and the fire of Shif'less Sol from the high bluff reached
them with deadly aim. They broke again, and, filled with superstitious
terror at their awful losses, fled, a panic horde, into the woods.

"On, on!" shouted Henry Ware, in tremendous tones. "They run, they run!"

The whole train seemed to heave forward, as if by one convulsive but
triumphant movement. Shif'less Sol and his men came down from the bluff
and dashed into the water behind them; Ross and his fifty came forward
from the thicket to meet them; and thus, dripping with water, smoke,
blood, and sweat, the whole train passed up the western bank. The terrible
ford had been won!

CHAPTER XXI

THE FLIGHT OF LONG JIM

Although the terrible ford had been won, Henry Ware knew that the danger
was far from over. The savages, caught on the flank and shot down from
above, had yielded to momentary panic, but they would come again. To any
souls less daring than this band of pioneers, the situation would have
been truly appalling. They were in the vast and unknown wilderness,
surrounded everywhere by the black forest, with the horde, hungry for
slaughter, still hanging upon their flanks; but among them all, scarce one
woman or child showed a craven heart.

Led by Henry Ware, the wagons filed into an open space--a plain or little
prairie--about a quarter of a mile beyond the ford, and there, still
following his instructions, they drew up in a circle. He considered this
open space a godsend, as no marksmen hidden in the woods could reach them
there with a bullet. As soon as the circle was completed, the women and
children poured forth from the wagons, and began to join the men in
fortifying. There was mingled joy for victory and grief for loss. They had
left dead behind in the river, and they had brought more with them; of
wounds, except those that threatened to be mortal, they took little count.
Even as they worked, scattering shots were fired from the forest, but they
paid no heed to them, as all the bullets fell s