little squad meet the four Indians, and enter into a powwow with them. Much of the conversation had to be carried on through gesture, since only old Reuben could understand the Indian tongue. But it was evident that the newcomers meant to be friendly, and were not the advance couriers of a band bent on burning the post.

Presently David beckoned to Captain Brady, and, as the other approached, he observed:

"They do not mean us any harm. On the contrary this young chief, who says his name is Black Beaver, wishes to trade some skins he has for tobacco. They have been south in Kentucky attending a grand council, and are on the way home to their village. He also wished to secure a small amount of meal if we can spare it. And, Captain, since we wish peace with all the tribes, I have promised to obtain these things for him."

When they heard this the men set up a shout, such was the great relief they experienced after the recent scare. Still, the cautious Brady warned them against being too positive.

"How do we know whether they are deceiving us?" he said, coldly; for he could not bear to be friendly with any Indian. "Perhaps they are even now carrying the scalps of our neighbors, the Bancrofts?"

"Not so, Captain, you wrong them," said David, hastily; "for yonder come those you mention, and apparently none the worse for their delay in starting."

After that there was no reasonable excuse for prolonging the matter; and so by degrees the settlers made their way back to their various homes. The Indians were treated well, and sent on their way with a supply of tobacco and a measure of meal, which latter David Armstrong himself supplied.

But little work was done the balance of that day. The result of the fright occasioned by this, the very first ringing of the alarm bell, made every one more or less nervous. Mrs. Armstrong would not even hear of the two boys starting out to hunt in the afternoon, as they had planned.

"We'd better put it off till to-morrow, Sandy," remarked Bob, when he saw how the recent excitement had affected his mother's nerves.

"I suppose so," replied the younger lad, with regret in his voice. "But I had just set my heart on trying to find that bee tree. We saw the little fellows working in Kate's flower garden, and flying off with their honey. Just think what a fine thing it would be, Bob, if we could learn where their storehouse is, and cut down the tree! Wouldn't mother's eyes just dance to see the piles of combs full of sweetness, perhaps enough for the whole winter?"

"That's a fact," admitted Bob, his own eyes shining with eagerness as Sandy thus painted such a pleasant picture. "But it will keep, I guess, till to-morrow. We ought to get done with our task early in the day, and then for the woods. You know there is not a great stock of meat handy, except that jerked venison that neither of us like very well. I'd enjoy something like a saddle of fresh venison myself."

And so the more impulsive brother found himself compelled to bow to circumstances, always a difficult task with Sandy.

During the afternoon the young pioneers busied themselves in various ways, for there were always plenty of things to be done—water to be carried from the spring, wood for the fire to be cut and hauled close to the door, some of the first pelts which the boys had taken in their rusty traps to be attended to in the curing; the garden to be weeded; and so it went on until the descending sun gave warning that another night was close at hand.

Sandy had taken an hour off to go fishing in the near-by river. As usual he brought back enough of the finny prizes to afford the Armstrong family a bountiful meal that night. From woods and waters they were accustomed to take daily toll, as their needs arose; nor was there likely to be any scarcity of food so long as hostile Indians gave the new settlement a wide berth.

Bob came upon his brother as he was returning to the cabin with a bucket of water. Sandy was almost through cleaning his fish, and the older boy naturally stopped a minute to comment on their fine size.

"I was just thinking, Bob," remarked the worker, with a shake of his head, "that perhaps we might see those same Indians again some fine day."

"What makes you say that?" asked the older lad, quickly; for he knew that Sandy must have something on his mind to speak in this strain.

"I think I feel a little like Captain Brady does about Indians," Sandy replied, "and that they are treacherous. Somehow, I just can't trust them, and that's the truth of it."

"Oh! but how about Blue Jacket? Didn't he prove that he was a true friend to us?" demanded Bob.

The young Indian to whom he referred was a Shawanee brave who had been wounded in the fight the settlers had had just before arriving at the river. The boys had found him desperately hurt, and had cared for him, even saving his life when the irate Captain Brady wanted to have the "varment" killed as he would a snake.

In return Blue Jacket had assisted in the rescue of the Armstrong boys who had fallen into the hands of the Indians.

"That's true, Bob," responded Sandy, readily enough. "Blue Jacket is our friend, but he's the only wearer of a red skin that I would trust. Now, of course, you're wondering what ails me. I'll tell you. I didn't like the way that young Delaware chief looked at our pretty little sister, Kate!"

"What's that you are saying?" demanded Bob, frowning.

"I saw him, if you didn't," continued Sandy, stubbornly. "He kept looking at her every little while even as he talked; for, you know, some of the women and girls came out of the stockade to look at the Indians. I tell you plainly that my finger just itched to touch the trigger of my gun when I saw him staring at Kate like that."

"But—he walked over here with us to get the measure of meal father promised to give him, without accepting any pay?" Bob went on, as if hardly able to credit the grave thing his brother was hinting at.

"Yes, and I kept just behind him all the time," Sandy went on, "with my gun in my hands. I think he noticed me after a while, for he stopped looking. But I wouldn't trust that heathen further than I could see him."

"Well, they have gone away," said Bob, as though that settled it.

"How do you know that?" questioned Sandy.

"Secretly, acting under orders from Captain Brady, old Reuben followed them for three miles, keeping himself hidden all the while. He reported that they had surely kept straight on, secured a canoe just where they said they had hidden one, and paddled across the river, landing on the other shore, and disappearing in the forest."

"But Black Beaver plans to come back some day," Sandy continued, as he arose; "I could see it in his eyes. And I mean to warn mother, so that she can keep Kate from wandering away from home so much. If ever I see that Delaware chief sneaking around here it will be a bad day for him."

"We called them Delawares, but old Reuben says now he made a mistake, and that they belong to the Iroquois. He told me that Black Beaver was a chief among the Senecas, and that his home was far away toward the Great Lakes."

"That may be so," remarked the unconvinced Sandy, starting toward the cabin, for evening was not far away, and he already inwardly felt clamorous demands for the appetizing supper that would soon be on the fire. "But even if he lives hundreds of miles away he can come back, can't he? He has made the journey once, why not again?"

Bob knew that, when once his brother got an idea into his head, argument was next to useless; so he wisely let the