bat with them; and the only plan,
therefore, that offered him any safety was to fall back and meet his
white friends at the earliest possible moment. In reaching the creek,
he had bent down the bushes, and broken the branches on the way so that
his trail could be followed without difficulty.

He now sped back to his canoe, which, when reached, he shoved into deep
water, and ran a considerable distance before he deemed it best to
enter. Lifting Fluellina in his arms, he deposited her carefully in
it. Niniotan leaped after her, and the next moment they were going
down the stream at a speed that seemed would tear the boat asunder
every moment. Debouching into the creek, the canoe rounded gracefully
and went upward with undiminished velocity, until, in almost an
incredible space, the point of embarkation was reached, when Oonomoo
ran in and sprung ashore, followed instantly by his wife and son.

The Huron had scarcely landed, when his quick ear detected a suspicious
sound. He glanced furtively around. Nothing, however, was seen,
although his apprehensions of the proximity of his foes had assumed a
certainty. Without pausing in the least, he instantly took the back
trail, Fluellina being close behind him, and Niniotan bringing up the
rear. They had gone scarce a dozen steps when the Shawnee war-whoop
was heard, and full a score of the red demons sprung up seemingly from
the very ground, and plunged toward the fugitives. Simultaneously
several rifles were discharged, and Oonomoo, who had thrown himself in
the rear of Fluellina upon the appearance of danger, knew by the sharp,
needle-like twinges in different parts of his body, that he was
severely wounded. Flight was useless, and as he and his wife took
shelter behind separate trees, he called to his son: "Niniotan, prove
yourself a warrior, the son of Oonomoo, the Huron!"

As quick as lightning, the youth was also sheltered, and his gun
discharged. A death-shriek from a howling Shawnee showed that the
training of Oonomoo had not been thrown away. The boy reloaded and
waited his opportunity.

The Shawnees, seeing they had driven their foe to the wall at last,
prudently halted, as they were in no hurry to engage such a terrible
being in a hand-to-hand contest, overwhelming as were their own odds.
The Huron wisely held his fire, believing he could keep his enemies at
bay much better by such means than by discharging it. The great point
with him was to defer the