ter, and he hurried down our way
to the river, just as we heard two sharp cracks from somewhere below.

"Make you feel sick, Nat?" said my uncle.

"No, I forgot it just then. I was thinking what a trump Pete is. Poor
fellow! He has risked his life to get me that water."

"Yes," said my uncle through his teeth: "he's a brave fellow, and he
likes you, Nat."

No more was said, and in a few minutes we heard the rustling of bushes
and saw Bill Cross coming backwards with his gun at the ready, covering
Pete, who was panting up with his bucket of water.

The next minute my smarting wounds were being bathed and the bleeding
encouraged till it stopped naturally, when my uncle brought out his
pocket-book, applied some lint from it, and bandaged the places firmly,
afterwards turning a handkerchief into a sling.

"There," he said, "you need not fidget about poison, my lad. The place
will soon heal. Now then, any sign of the enemy?"

"No, sir," cried Pete; "they cut away across the river, all but that
chap that was hit."

"Was one hit?" said my uncle eagerly.

"Yes, sir; he's lying down yonder by the water, and he's got our
chopper."

"What?"

"I come upon him lying bleeding, and as soon as he saw me he began to
put an arrow on his bow-string; but I hit him on the nose, broke his bow
in two, and chucked his arrows in the river. He must have come before,
and sneaked our old axe."

"Then he's there now?"

"Yes, sir; he can't run. You winged him--I mean legged. But I've got
our chopper again."

"Sit still, Nat," said my uncle. "Here, Pete, carry my gun, and you,
Cross, come and cover me. I can't leave the poor wretch like that."

I saw Cross frown as he followed my uncle, and Pete stopped for a moment
behind with me.

"I mustn't stop, Master Nat," he said. "I am sorry, sir, but don't you
be a downhearted 'un. I shan't be long. I say: who was right about the
axe?"

I nodded my thanks to him, and then sat back, in acute pain, thinking
about the sudden change in the state of our affairs, and of how
necessary it would be for us to retreat into a safer part of the
country. It was all so unexpected and so vexatious, just as in all
probability we might be on the point of discovering the birds we sought.

I was musing in a half-faint way, the pain and shock having made me feel
very sick, when I heard the sounds of the returning party, and to my
surprise they brought in the wounded Indian on Cross's back, t