y, which they found then more
entertaining in description than they afterward found it in the
reality.

That night when Sandy lay down to refreshing sleep it was to dream of
picturesque Indian fights, witnessed at a safe distance from afar.
Accordingly, he was not very much surprised next morning, while he was
helping Charlie to get ready the breakfast, when Oscar ran in
breathless, with the one word, "Indians!"

"Come out on the hill back of the cabin," panted Oscar. "There's a lot
of 'em coming out on the trail we saw yesterday, all in Indian file.
Hurry up!" and away he darted, Sandy hastening with him to see the
wonderful sight.

Sure enough, there they were, twenty-five or thirty Indians,--blanket
Indians, as Younkins would have said,--strung along in the narrow
trail, all in Indian file. It amazed the lads to see how the little
Indian ponies managed to keep their feet in the narrow path. But they
seemed to trot leisurely along with one foot before the other, just as
the Indians did. Behind the mounted men were men and boys on foot,
nearly as many as had passed on horseback. These kept up with the
others, silently but swiftly maintaining the same pace that the
mounted fellows did. It was a picturesque and novel sight to the young
settlers. The Indians were dressed in the true frontier style, with
hunting-shirt and leggings of dressed deerskin, a blanket slung
loosely over the shoulder, all bareheaded, and with coarse black hair
flowing in the morning breeze, except for the loose knot in which it
was twisted behind. Some of them carried their guns slung on their
backs; and others of them had the weapons in their hands, ready for
firing on the instant.

"There they go, over the divide," said Oscar, as the little cavalcade
reached the last roll of the prairie, and began to disappear on the
other side. Not one of the party deigned even to look in the direction
of the wondering boys; and if they saw them, as they probably did,
they made no sign.

"There they go, hunting buffalo, I suppose," said Sandy, with a
sigh, as the last Indian of the file disappeared down the horizon.
"Dear me! don't I wish I was going out after buffalo, instead of
having to dibble corn into the sod all day! Waugh! Don't I hate
it!" And the boy turned disconsolately back to the cabin. But he
rallied with his natural good-humor when he had his tale to tell at
the breakfast-table. He eagerly told how they had seen the Indians
passing over t