he sound of hostile bullets (that was during the
"neighborhood row" of which we have spoken in the first volume of this
series), he had never before taken part in a scout after Indians, and it
may be readily imagined that Bob's parting words did not serve to
encourage him in any great degree. Bob seemed to think that there was a
possibility that their attempted surprise might end in utter defeat. The
bare thought was enough to make George's hair stand on end, but it did
not make him lose any of the sympathy he felt for the boy-captives or
falter in his resolve to do all he could toward effecting their release.
In obedience to Bob's order to "lead on" he raised his rifle to his
shoulder and glided off into the darkness, the troopers following in
single file. Before he had marched half a mile Bob hurried up and placed
himself by his side.

"Say, George," he whispered, "you are not going toward the camp. If you
follow this course, you will miss it by half a mile or more."

"I don't want to go toward the camp," was the reply. "We must circle
around so as to come up in the rear of that sentry, who, as I told you,
will stay on the top of that hill as long as his friends stay in the
gully."

"Do you think we can capture him without alarming the others?"

"We are not going to try; at least, I sha'n't advise it. If we can save
the boys, we ought to be satisfied. That sentry will dig out as soon as
he scents danger, and all we can do is to let him go."

"How awful still it is, and how fearful dark!" continued Bob. "I hope
you won't get confused and miss your way."

"There is no danger of that," replied George confidently. "I can see the
stars, and they are as good as a compass to me. I have often travelled
by them, and they have never fooled me yet."

"Where are the wolves, I wonder?" said Bob, who was so impatient and so
highly excited that he could not long hold his peace. "They keep up
their unearthly howls every night when we wish them a thousand miles
away, but now, when a yelp from one of them would be a relief, they
don't put in an appearance."

"And I am glad of it," said George. "Don't you know that a pack of
wolves are the best sentries a camping-party can have?"

Yes, Bob said he was aware of that fact.

"Well," continued George, "don't you see that the little breeze there is
stirring is blowing from us toward the camp? If there were any wolves
around, they would probably be on the other side of the gully, f