rm, and then blood dripped down; but it was only a flesh
wound, and he was spurred to greater speed.

A terrible yell arose, and many warriors, trained runners of the forest,
with muscles of steel and a spirit that never tired, darted after him. But
Long Jim, bending his head a little lower, raced on through the dark, his
strength growing with every leap and his brain on fire with energy. He
passed two or three savages--far-flung outposts--but before they could
recover from their surprise he was by them and gone. Bullets sang past
him, but the long, slim figure cut the air like an arrow in the wind.
After him came the savages, but now he was beyond the last outposts, and
the footsteps of his pursuers were growing fainter behind. Now he opened
his mouth, and emitted a long, quavering, defiant yell--answer to their
own. After that he was silent, and sped on, never relaxing, tireless like
some powerful machine. The pursuit died away behind him, and though some
might hang on his trail, none could ever overtake him.

The low thunder still muttered, and the fitful lightning began to flare
again. Now and then there were gusts of rain, swept by the wind; but
through all the hours of rain and dark the runner sped on, mile upon
mile.

Day dawns and finds him still flitting! But now there is full need of thy
speed, Jim Hart! Five hundred lives hang upon it!

Speed ye, Long Jim, speed ye!

CHAPTER XXII

THE LAST STAND

Henry Ware and the others, listening at the circle of the wagons, heard
the flare of shots, and then, a little later, a lone but long and defiant
cry, that seemed to be an answer to the others.

"That's Jim Hart, and he's through!" exclaimed Henry exultantly. "Now
he'll fairly eat up the ground between here and Wareville."

That night another attack, or rather feint, was made upon the train; but
it was easily beaten off, and then morning came, raw and wet. The woods
and grass were dripping with the showers, and a sodden, gray sky chilled
and discouraged. The fires were lighted with difficulty and burned weakly.
The women and children ate but little, casting fearful glances at the
rain-soaked forest that circled about them. But Paul, as usual, with his
bright face and brighter words, walked among them, and he told them a good
tale. Long Jim Hart, with muscles and a soul of steel, had gone forth that
night, and he would bring help. They were to march to a place called the
Table Rock, where they would