n, but
then my father was not in my position, and that, ofttimes, makes all the
difference in the world.

The Pottawattamies were to have a war dance at the little town of
Marietta, some six or seven miles up the river, and of course we boys
were determined to be on hand and take part in the festivities. There
were some twelve or fifteen of us in the party and we enjoyed the show
immensely, as was but natural. Had we all been content to look on and
then go home peacefully there would have been no trouble, but what boys
would act in such unboyish fashion? Not the boys of Marshalltown, at any
rate. It was just our luck to run up against two drunken Indians riding
on a single pony, and someone in the party, I don't know who, hit the
pony and started him, to bucking.

Angrier Indians were never seen. With a whoop and a yell that went
ringing across the prairies they started after us, and how we did leg
it! How far some of the others ran I have no means of knowing but I know
that I ran every foot of the way back to Marshalltown, nor did I stop
until I was safe, as I thought, in my father's house.

My troubles did not end there, however, for along in the darkest hours
of the night I started from sleep and saw those two Indians, one
standing at the head and one at the foot of the bed, and each of them
armed with a tomahawk. That they had come to kill me I was certain, and
that they would succeed in doing so seemed to me equally sure. I tried
to scream but I could not. I was as powerless as a baby. I finally
managed to move and as I did so I saw them vanish through the open
doorway and disappear in the darkness.

There was no sleep for me that night, as you may imagine. I fancied that
the entire Pottawattomie tribe had gathered about the house and that
they would never be content until they had both killed and scalped me. I
just lay there and shivered until the dawn came, and I do not think
there was a happier boy in the country than I when the morning finally
broke and I convinced myself by the evidence of my own eye-sight that
there was not so much as even a single Indian about.

As soon as it was possible I told my father about my two unwelcome
visitors, but the old man only laughed and declared that I had been
dreaming. It was just possible that I had, but I do not believe it. I
saw those two Indians as they stood at the head and foot of my bed just
as plainly as I ever saw a base-ball, and I have had my eye on the bal