in the immediate vicinity, and were they stealing up to this camp where the little party of fugitives had taken supper? Were the friends being drawn into a skilfully laid ambush? Such were some of the questions they asked themselves as they stood in the darkness of the forest, waiting for the cause of all this apprehension to come forth and show himself.

Suddenly the same soft rustling of the leaves was detected and whoever was the cause thereof was plainly approaching the camp fire. Then a form issued into view and paused. It was Lena-Wingo, the Mohawk. His friends instantly gathered about him to learn the success of his errand, and the explanation of the report of the rifle.

"You hear gun?" asked the red scout.

"Of course we did," answered Ned, "and what did it mean?"

The old grin came back to the face of the Mohawk as he replied: "That gun fired by white man. He aim at Lena-Wingo!" was the astounding information he gave his companions.