Chapter Six.

Chapter Six.Dan’s eagerness for adventures—Mosquitos—A tempest brewing—The storm upon us—Rising of the river—The flood—A fearful flash—Dio takes the lead—A miserable night—Strangers in camp—Rumours of Indians—Following up the trail—The plundered emigrant train—The wolves—A prairie flower—Alone in the deserted camp—New dangers—A surprise for my mother—The halt—Graves by the wayside—The only records of the slain—“Lily’s mother sleeps here.”“I say, Mike, I thought by this time that we should have fought half a dozen battles with the redskins, killed no end of buffalo and deer, unkennelled black bears and grizzlies without number, and trapped beavers and racoons and ’possums by scores!” exclaimed Dan, as we were seated round our camp-fire.“Wait a bit, my boy, until we get farther on our journey,” remarked Mr Tidey, who overheard Dan, “we shall have adventures enough then to satisfy you, and enable Mike to fill up his journal to overflowing, though, for my part, I confess I shall be very glad, as I suspect will be your father and mother, if we get through without them.”“Not much chance of that,” I observed, “or we shall be an exception to the general rule. I hope, however, if we do meet with hostile Indians, that we may be able to beat them off. Martin Prentis, who has been a good deal among them, says that they are arrant cowards, and will only attack people when they find them unprepared.”We were, I should have said, encamped in our usual fashion, near a stream, that we might obtain as much water as we required. Along the bank was a belt of trees with a copse, which afforded us a supply of fire-wood. The weather had been exceedingly hot, and scarcely had we halted than we had to encounter an enemy for which we had not bargained. Swarms of mosquitos attacked us the moment we left the protecting smoke of the fire, buzzing round our heads in countless numbers, stinging our faces and hands and such parts of our legs and ankles as were exposed. Fortunately my mother had some mosquito curtains, within which she and Kathleen obtained shelter at night, though we who had no means of resisting their assaults were so stung that we could scarcely recognise each other.“In my opinion we shall have a storm before long,” observed Martin Prentis, “the way these creatures bite is a pretty sure sign of what is going to happen.”Not long after he had made the remark, on looking up at the sky I saw a thick mass of clouds sweeping across it, the stars rapidly disappearing. Suddenly the whole horizon was lighted up with flashes of brilliant flame and reiterated peals of thunder burst forth with fearful loudness. There was, however, but little wind, and as yet no rain had fallen. As Martin had advised, my father had the tilts of the waggons carefully secured with additional ropes over them, as he had also my mother’s tent. The storm drew nearer and nearer. The lightning had hitherto been at a distance, but now thick bars of fire darted through the air, remaining visible for many seconds, zigzagging backwards and forwards before they reached the ground, along which they went hissing like fiery serpents, sometimes striking into it with loud crashes. Again for a minute or two all seemed darkness, then once more the whole heaven was illuminated, the thunder all the time roaring and rattling, now coming from one direction, now from another. Our terrified horses rushed up to the camp seeking protection, although the more stolid oxen appeared indifferent to the uproar. Hitherto the air had been calm. Suddenly a fierce blast swept across the plain, shaking the awnings of the waggons, and threatening to bear them off bodily, or tear them to pieces. Scarcely had the blast struck the camp, than down came the rain. My mother and Kathleen rushed hurriedly into their tent, followed at their invitation by Biddy and Rose, while we sought such shelter as the waggons could afford. That was rain, and not only rain but hail, each piece of ice the size of a pigeon’s egg, some even larger. The rain fell in no small drops, but in sheets of water, and soon converted our camp into a pond, the spot on which my mother’s tent stood happily forming an island. With the crashing of the thunder, the roar of the wind, and the fierce pattering of the rain, we could scarcely hear each other speak. We were thankful that we had already encamped before the storm came on. Hour after hour it raged without giving any sign of diminution. I was seated alongside Uncle Denis, wrapped up in a buffalo robe in one of the waggons nearest to the river, which we could occasionally see by stretching out our necks beyond the canvas as the flashes of lightning darted across it.“Mike, does it strike you that the water has risen higher than it was when we first encamped? Watch for the next flash, and tell me what you think.”I did as he directed me.“It seems to me almost up to the top of the bank,” I answered.“I hope it won’t come higher, then,” he said, “for if it does, we shall have to harness up, and seek for a more elevated position to spend the remainder of the night, though it won’t be pleasant to have to move while the storm lasts.”Again looking out, and waiting for another flash, it appeared to me that the water had not only risen to the bank, but had overflowed. It was meandering in various channels over the ground.I told my uncle, who watched as I had done, until he was convinced in another few minutes that our camp would be completely flooded. He shouted out to my father, who agreed with him. Our first care was to get my mother and Kathleen, with their attendants, into their waggon, and to wrap them up as well as we could. We then, calling to the men, hurried out, splashing over the wet ground, while the rain came like a shower-bath down on our heads, to catch the oxen and harness them up. It was no easy matter to find the animals, as it was only when the lightning flashed forth that we could distinguish them, so pitchy dark was the night. First one team was caught, then another and another, we all shouting at the top of our voices to make ourselves heard. There was no time to be lost; already the water was almost up to the axles. At length, however, we got the oxen harnessed and the horses saddled. First one waggon was drawn out, and then another, but it took some time before all were ready to move forward. The next point to be considered was the direction to take. We might possibly only find ourselves on lower ground, and consequently in deeper water. My father and Uncle Denis, who had mounted their horses, rode forward, telling us to keep shouting, that they might find us again. The lightning continued flashing as before, so that we could see them for a short time as they rode away. My father had directed me to move on in as straight a line as we could keep at right angles from the river, and by turning round I could occasionally get a view of the trees which fringed its banks, showing me that we were as nearly as possible keeping the course he wished. Still I felt very anxious. I had remembered passing along a deep gully which would in all probability be full of water, and before we were aware of it the leading oxen might tumble in, and perhaps drag the waggon after them. I told Martin and another man to go to their heads and feel the way with poles, while the rest of the waggons kept as close as possible one behind the other. The drivers, however, finding the water rising, could with difficulty be induced to follow my orders. Behind us we could hear the sound of the rushing waters as the swollen river swept along, and at intervals the voices of the men driving the rear waggons reached my ears, shouting to us to move faster. We were thus advancing cautiously when I caught sight of a dark object rising up almost before me and apparently reaching to the sky. It was a tree, but in the darkness it seemed of gigantic proportions.At that moment a vivid flash darted from the clouds, a loud explosion followed with a deafening crash, and the stout trunk was rent asunder, the branches falling on every side, the leading oxen narrowly escaping being crushed. I should have been swept off my frightened horse had he not sprang forward, trembling in every limb. The flash revealed to me one of the gullies I had been anxious to avoid. I shouted to the other men to keep clear of the danger. At the same time a dread seized me lest my father and Uncle Denis might have ridden into it, and have been carried away by the boiling current.The men replied that they could not see their way, and from the cries which reached me it was evident that the whole train was in confusion. The roar of the waters drowned our voices. At that moment another flash showed me a figure close by my side and I caught the words—“Me show de way, dare high ground little ahead, come ’long.”It was Dio, who had leapt from the waggon in which he had been seated and had come to the front, the post of danger. Endowed with a keener eyesight than the rest of us, during darkness he had distinguished the ground which we had failed to see. The leading waggon followed him, and we were soon assured that the ground was rising. Though this was the case, it might again sink and we should be in a worse position than before. I was greatly relieved when I heard a shout in reply to ours and could distinguish the figures of my father and Uncle Denis against the sky. They had found a spot, not likely to be reached by the water they believed, where we could camp for the remainder of the night. They led us to it along the ridge we had gained, avoiding a deep dip, into which, had we descended, we should have been worse off than before. Of course we were all wet to the skin; but, while the rain poured down in bucketfuls as it was doing, we could light no fire to dry our clothes. Still we were thankful that we had escaped the danger which had threatened us, and we managed to place our waggons in the usual position, so that at daylight we might be prepared for enemies should any appear. When morning broke we had reason to be grateful to Heaven that we had moved away in time from the bank of the river, for the ground on which we had encamped was covered with water to the depth apparently of several feet, while the current swept by with a force sufficient to have carried our waggons and cattle away. As the day advanced, the storm ceased, the clouds rolled off and the sun burst forth, his warm rays soon drying our clothes and the wet tilts of the waggons.The flood had so completely obliterated the trail, that my father and uncle deemed it prudent either to ride on ahead themselves, or to send Mr Tidey and me forward to ascertain the proper route to take. They had gone on in the morning where the road was more difficult, and after our mid-day stoppage the Dominie and I took the lead. In all directions were traces of the storm, trees uprooted, the streams flooded, the ground being covered with broken branches of trees and occasionally we came across the bodies of animals which had been caught by the current and drowned.As the day was drawing to a close we were looking out for a spot on which to camp for the night. As I gazed ahead I saw some objects moving across the plain.“Can those be Indians?” I asked, pointing them out to Mr Tidey; “if so, they may be Sioux or Blackfeet and give us some trouble.”He reined up his horse, and, shading his eyes with his hand, gazed at them steadily. “No, that’s a waggon, and coming this way too,” he answered, “they may be emigrants who have turned back either because they have been frightened by Indians, or having lost some of their cattle by the floods have found it impossible to proceed; supposing the latter to be the case, they appear to be coming on very rapidly.”“They seem to me to be running away from enemies,” I observed, “however, we shall soon know.”“At all events we must try to select our camping-ground before they come up, or they may occupy it,” answered Mr Tidey, “there is a stream to the right bordered by trees. It is just the spot we want. Ride back, Mike, and hurry on the waggons. We shall have formed our camp before the strangers arrive.”While Mr Tidey rode in the direction towards which he pointed, I galloped back and gave notice of the approach of a train from the westward. I had observed an easy pass among the hills which led down to the stream, and through it I was able to guide our waggons. We reached the ground selected by Mr Tidey in good time to camp before dark, and our arrangements had just been concluded when the strangers approached. As they drew near, my father and I went to meet them, to show them a spot near ours where they might encamp. Two men, seeing us coming, advanced towards us: one of them was a sturdy, strong, bold fellow, but the other had nothing of the backwoodsman about him in appearance.“Glad to fall in with you, strangers,” said the first; “and if you follow my advice, you will turn back with us, unless you wish to have your scalps taken by the Indians or your cattle drowned by the floods, or if you escape them, to die of hunger and thirst as you travel over the desert to the westward, though it’s my opinion you’ll never get many days journey from this.”“Your report, friend, is not very encouraging,” answered my father, “though, as I am prepared to encounter some difficulty, I cannot promise to follow your advice; however, as we shall spend the evening together we shall hear more of what you have gone through. To save you time, we looked out for a spot for your camp. You cannot do better than occupy it.”The stranger thanked us. “Whereabouts is it?” he asked.“It is a little to the westward of where our waggons are drawn up.”“I’d rather go further east,” said the stranger when he saw it, “and place you between ourselves and the redskins. We’ve had one battle already, and to say the truth have no stomachs for another. You may take your turn next, should they come, and I am not certain that they will not before daybreak.”“You are welcome to camp where you like,” answered my father, amused at the stranger’s cowardice, of which he did not seem at all ashamed; “we shall look to you, however, to help us in driving back the redskins if they make their appearance.”We, however, assisted the strangers in finding a suitable spot a little to the eastward of our camp, and in a short time they drew up their waggons on it.As soon as we had finished supper my father and Uncle Denis and I went over to the strangers’ camp, to hear a further account of their proceedings.The story they gave of the dangers they had encountered was sufficiently alarming to make persons less determined than my father and uncle give up the expedition they had undertaken. They had narrowly escaped being carried away by a flood the previous evening, and had been only the day before surrounded by a body of Indians, with whom, as it turned out, they had only exchanged shots, when the redskins had retreated without blood being shed. They mentioned, however, another train of four or five waggons which had been some way ahead of them, and told us that they had considerable apprehensions as to their fate.“We will hope for the best,” said my father, “if the people are prudent and keep a careful watch, I believe they may easily beat off any Indians of these parts, who never attack white men unless they can take them by surprise.”We did our best to persuade our new acquaintances to turn back once more with us, but they had so completely lost heart that nothing we could say had any effect.“No, no, friend,” answered their leader, “we committed a folly in leaving our comfortable farm in Ohio. We have made up our minds to be wiser in future, and look out for another location eastward, beyond the reach of the Indians. If you are wise, you will do the same.”“From my experience I should say that we are as likely to be annoyed by white men as the redskins, and by treating the latter honestly I hope that we shall gain their friendship and have no cause to dread them,” said my father.“You’ll act as you judge best, but I have warned you of what you may have to expect,” was the answer.We parted the next morning with mutual expressions of good will, and while the returning emigrants hurried off eastward, we continued our course to the west, the marks made by their waggon wheels enabling us to proceed rapidly until we reached the spot where they had encamped the previous night. Here the truth of their story was corroborated by the appearance of Indian trails which led away westward. We encamped a little further on, and of course kept a careful watch at night, but no enemy appeared.Next afternoon Mr Tidey and I were riding ahead followed by Boxer and another of our dogs—without whom indeed, we never left the camp, as they were sure to give us timely warning should any Indians be lurking around. We knew, however, that they would not attack the red-men, of whom they seemed to have an instinctive dread, but would silently slink close to us, should any enemies be near. We were looking out, as may be supposed, for Indian trails, as well as for those of the other emigrant train of which we had heard, when we saw signs on the ground which at first puzzled us. We dismounted to examine them more carefully.“If we had an Indian guide, he would quickly tell us what they mean,” observed the Dominie. “See, here are oxen and wheel tracks, and these are the marks of moccasins. I suspect that a party of Indians out on the war-path have followed the waggons, and I fear after all that the emigrants were not so far wrong in their conjectures as we supposed. I only hope the people on ahead have kept a careful watch and beaten back their wily foe.”“Let us push on, and try to overtake the Indians before they attack the train,” I said. “When they see another party of white men approaching, they may judge it prudent to give up their enterprise; and if they pursue us, our fast horses will enable us easily to keep out of their way.”The Dominie, though not blind to the risk we might run, agreed to my proposal; the ground was open and level, and there was no brushwood either to the right or left which might conceal a lurking foe. We accordingly put our horses into a gallop, believing that we should soon come up with the train, or get sight of the Indians, should they still be following it. “The redskins will be looking ahead, and will not discover us until we have seen them,” I observed.Suddenly the dogs, which had been keeping alongside us, dashed forward, just at the moment that we, from the unevenness of the ground, were compelled to pull up. On reaching the summit of one of the undulations rather than hills, which rise in different parts of the prairie, we saw some objects in the distance which we both agreed must be waggons. As we got nearer we saw that two were upset, and that from a third smoke was ascending, while from another the tilt had been torn off, one only remaining intact.“That must be the train we are in search of,” observed the Dominie; “it has too evidently been attacked by the Indians; but I see no one moving about. Perhaps the savages caught sight of us, and supposing that we were at the head of a large party, have gone off. We may be in time to help some of the poor people, if any have escaped with their lives, though I fear the worst, as the redskins seldom leave their work half finished, and the chances are that all the white men have been killed.”We rode forward as fast as the rugged nature of the ground would allow, prepared at any moment to wheel round and gallop back should we catch sight of the savages.We hoped, however, as the dogs did not return, that we should have no trouble on that account. We were still at some distance from the waggons, when we heard a loud yelping and barking.“Those sounds came from a pack of wolves,” exclaimed Mr Tidey; “I see the brutes, they are calling to each other, expecting to enjoy a banquet on the dead bodies of the slain.”Directly afterwards we caught sight of the animals making their way through the brushwood and trees which surrounded the waggons. Above their hideous yelps we could distinguish the deep honest bark of our own dogs. Forgetting for the moment the risk we ran of being surprised, we put spurs to our horses, and galloping over the uneven ground soon got up to the spot. Neither cattle nor horses were visible, they had evidently been carried off. The scene which soon met our eyes filled us with horror.On the ground lay half-a-dozen men, each of whom had been scalped and their bodies partly stripped. Farther on were two or three more, who had fallen between the waggons. Some of the wolves, more daring than their companions, had advanced at the head of the pack, and would already have commenced the horrible repast had not our two noble dogs, barking furiously, kept them at bay.“I am afraid we are too late here to be of any use except to bury the dead,” observed Mr Tidey as we surveyed the melancholy scene. “But holloa! what is that among the bushes? A woman,—I see her moving. Perhaps we may be in time to save her.”Forgetting that the Indians might still be at hand, we dismounted, and fastening our horses to the wheels of one of the waggons, made our way through the brushwood. As we did so, a couple of wolves approached from an opposite direction, and were on the point of seizing the woman’s body, when Boxer and his companion springing forward, they took to flight. We hurried to the assistance of the poor woman. We now saw that it was not she who had moved, but a little girl whose arms were thrown round her.“Oh! come help Lily!” exclaimed the child, at once recognising us as white men: “look up mother! oh, mother, mother! speak to Lily, one word. White man come to help you, no fear now.”In vain, however, Lily called to her mother. While I took the child in my arms, Mr Tidey knelt down by the side of the poor lady. The blood which flowed from her breast, and dyed the ground on which she lay, too plainly told that she had received a mortal wound.“She is beyond our help,” he said; “but I would prevent her body being devoured by these abominable brutes. Do you carry the child, and I will convey the poor mother into the nearest waggon. We can cover her up sufficiently to prevent the wolves getting at her until we return, when we can bury her decently, as well as the rest of the murdered people.”I did as he advised, and was making my way to where we had left the horses, when I heard a loud explosion, and fragments of all sorts came whizzing through the air: mercifully none of them struck me. I looked round, and was thankful to see Mr Tidey safe. I had forgotten the waggon which we had seen burning. The horses, terrified by the sound, reared and plunged, and broke their bridles. The Dominie, letting the body fall, rushed after his horse; fortunately catching it, he galloped after mine in the direction from which we had come, and I found myself standing alone in the midst of the blackened train, with the little girl clinging to my neck and crying bitterly for her mother to speak to her, while the wolves, driven to a distance by the explosion, howled and yelped around me, though kept from again approaching by the gallant dogs and the shouts I raised for the purpose of keeping them at bay.I felt that I was in a fearful position. At any moment the savages might return, in the hopes of obtaining more plunder. I had my rifle, and I determined to defend the little girl and myself to the last. A new danger arose: the waggon was burning furiously; the flames might ignite the others, which in all probability also contained kegs of powder, and it was more than likely that the grass would be set on fire and the whole prairie would be in a blaze. Not only should I and my young companion lose our lives, but my friends would be exposed to the most fearful danger. I must endeavour, I saw, to make some effort to prevent the catastrophe; but I had not the heart to force the little girl’s arms from around my neck, and to place her on the ground. I endeavoured to tranquillise her by every means I could think of. At last I bethought me of placing her in the only waggon which remained upright.“Stay quiet there, Lily,” I observed; “no one will hurt you, and I will come back as soon as possible. I want to try and put out that fire, or it will do us harm.”“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me,” cried Lily; but as she did not resist. I placed her in the waggon, and begged her to be quiet, while I seized a long stick which lay on the ground, and rushing up to the fire, beat out the flames which already rose from the grass. Mercifully it was not so thick there as in other places a short distance off. I rushed round and round the burning mass, now and then being just in time to reach a snake-like line of flame which was extending towards the brushwood or in the direction of the tall grass, which, had it gained, nothing could have stopped the dreaded catastrophe. I was thus engaged when I heard a loud holloa! For a moment I thought the Indians were upon me, but on looking up, I saw Mr Tidey, leading my horse and followed by Uncle Denis. They were soon up to me, and leaping from their steeds, without stopping to ask questions, commenced stamping out the smouldering fire, which a sudden puff of wind might soon have raised again into a flame. Not until they had succeeded in overcoming the threatened danger did they speak a word. Uncle Denis then told me that they had heard the report; and fearing that we might be exposed to danger, he had galloped forward to ascertain the cause, leaving the waggons under the command of my father, who had made every preparation for resistance in case they should be attacked by the Indians. He had seen Mr Tidey catch my horse, and had been very anxious lest some accident should have befallen me. A few words served to explain what had happened, and I then hurried back to poor little Lily.“We are safe now, Lily,” I said, “and you must come with me. Do you think you could sit on my horse, while we gallop over the ground?”“Oh yes, Lily often used to sit on Uncle John’s horse. I not afraid,” she answered. “But mother, where is mother?”“That other man will take care of her,” I answered evasively. “Come, I want to carry you to friends; I’ve got a little sister, who would be so glad to see you, and so will my mother. She, I know, will take care of you.”“Lily will go with you,” she answered.Mounting my horse, I called to Uncle Denis to place Lily in front of me on the saddle.“Go on, Mike,” he said; “we will do as Mr Tidey proposed with the poor lady, and follow close behind you. The sooner we rejoin the waggons the better, for one can never tell what tricks the redskins may play us. Tell your father that I think he had better camp as soon as he can find a suitable spot.”I did not stop for further directions, but rode off as fast as I could venture to go, holding Lily tightly with my right arm round her waist before me. I very naturally, as I rode along, kept a look-out on either side, half expecting to see a party of Indians creeping forward to cut me off. I was thankful when I caught sight of the waggons approaching with my father at their head. His astonishment at beholding my young companion was very great. I stopped but for a moment to tell him what had occurred. He ordered the waggons to halt, that I might give Lily over to my mother. She and Kathleen uttered exclamations of surprise at seeing the little girl, while Dio, who was on foot, ran forward and lifted her into the waggon.“This is my mother, Lily,” I said, “and my little sister Kathleen; I am sure they will be kind and love you very much.”“That we will,” said my mother, as Lily, looking up in her face, smiled faintly; but she had been too much frightened to speak. As I left her in my mother’s arms I whispered—“I will tell you by-and-by how I found her, but don’t ask her any questions now, mother.” I made a sign, which I think she understood, to show her that something very dreadful had occurred.Without stopping further, I returned to my father, to whom I gave my uncle’s message, and as we rode along I told him what had happened. We had not got far when Mr Tidey and Uncle Denis arrived. I saw that both my uncle and the Dominie looked unusually anxious. Just as they were starting they had caught sight of two figures in the distance, which they had no doubt were Indians who had been watching them; they were convinced, moreover, that should an opportunity occur, the savages would attack our camp.We pushed on accordingly as fast as we could move, until we got within about a mile of the place where the emigrants’ train had been destroyed. It was the first spot suitable for camping. Situated in a slight hollow, four or five hundred yards wide, a deep and pretty broad stream flowing on the north side, with a small wood or copse to the east, while to the west and south the ground sloped upwards and then fell again down to the scene of the catastrophe. We lost no time in unyoking the oxen and placing the waggons in a square, taking even more than usual precautions against an attack. As there was plenty of grass round, we tethered both the cattle and horses close outside the waggons, while three men were told off to keep watch on the top of the ridge, whence we could obtain a wide view over the country. We swept it again and again with our telescopes but could discover no persons moving in the distance. We both saw and heard, however, the horrible wolves, who only waited for nightfall to rush in again on the emigrants’ camp.“I don’t like the thought of allowing those poor fellows to be devoured by the brutes,” said Uncle Denis. “What do you say, Tidey? Will you accompany me, and try to bury them decently? We will go on horseback, and by keeping a bright look-out, there will be no risk of being surprised by the redskins, should they venture to return. I should like especially to pay all the respect we can to that poor lady.”“With all my heart,” answered the Dominie, “and if the captain agrees, we will take Martin and Dio.”“And I’ll go too,” I said, “if my father will allow me.”As he did not object, we immediately mounted our horses, Uncle Denis and the Dominie each carrying a spade, and the two men a pickaxe a-piece, while Boxer and Toby followed at our heels. As we galloped over the ground, we were not long in reaching the scene of the massacre. Dio, who had the sharpest eyes amongst us, was stationed to keep a look-out, while we, securing our horses, at once set about our melancholy task. We selected a spot under the branches of a wide-spreading oak for the grave of the poor lady. As the ground was soft it was soon dug. We then carried the body to it. We were on the point of placing it in, when the Dominie suggested that we should take off her wedding-ring and any ornament about her, that they might be given to her daughter, and that they might also serve to identify her, so that should we have an opportunity we might inform her relatives and friends of her fate. Besides the plain gold ring, was another of curious workmanship with an amethyst set in it, while secured round her neck by a silk ribbon Uncle Denis discovered a gold locket. Without stopping to examine it he placed it in his pouch. In the waggon were a few articles for family use, but we found nothing of value. No letters; no pocket-book which might serve to tell us who she was; everything had been carried off by the savages. Her husband, probably, was among the murdered men; and if we could find his body, we would, we agreed, place it in the grave of his wife.“That’s more than we are likely to do,” answered Uncle Denis; “let the poor lady rest alone.”Accordingly, lifting her up, we placed her in the narrow grave, and although she was a stranger to me, I confess that I burst into tears as we hurriedly threw the earth over her. Martin had in the meantime commenced a larger grave for the men. Had they been our most intimate friends, we should have been unable to recognise them, so fearfully had their countenances been disfigured by the savages. The bodies too had been partly stripped, so that there was little difference in their dress to help us. In vain we endeavoured to ascertain which was the husband of the poor lady, and we had no time to devote to a close examination. We were not long in digging a shallow grave and burying the murdered men side by side.“We must place some logs over the poor lady’s grave,” said Uncle Denis, “so that we may know it again.”Mr Tidey agreed, and all of us plying our axes, we managed to pile up a number of logs over the spot. Three fallen trees lay near the larger grave and these we dragged over it, so as to prevent the wolves from disturbing the dead. Dio had in the meantime been riding backward and forwards, shouting out whenever he saw any of the brutes approaching: he was assisted by our two brave dogs, who kept up a constant barking, showing that they understood the duty required of them.The sun had already set, and as the Indians, should they have been watching us in the distance, might creep up during the darkness, we mounted our horses and rode back as quickly as we could to the camp. My first inquiry was for Lily. She had been crying bitterly for her mother, asking when she would come to her, but had at length fallen asleep, and was now resting inside the tent in Kathleen’s bed.While seated round the camp-fire an idea came into my head, I procured a piece of board, and with my knife commenced carving an inscription. This I intended fixing the next morning on to the logs above the lady’s grave. It was a question whether I should have an opportunity of erecting it. We might possibly be attacked by an overwhelming body of Indians and have to retreat, or perchance share the fate of the unfortunate people we had buried. As may be supposed, we kept an anxious watch, although there was less chance of our being attacked in the camp than while moving on, as the redskins, in spite of their vaunted bravery, always watch for an opportunity of taking their enemies by surprise, and finding us prepared for them, would probably keep at a distance. Having stood my watch during the early part of the night, I turned in and lay down with my buffalo robe by the side of Dan. I was awakened by my father’s voice arousing the camp. In an instant every one was on foot, fires were made up, and a hurried breakfast taken. We then caught and yoked the oxen, and in the grey of morning recommenced our march. Uncle Denis and the Dominie, acting as scouts, rode a little way in advance on either side, so as to avoid the risk of a surprise. My mother kept little Lily in her arms inside the waggons, so that she could not see the wrecked train. As we approached it Uncle Denis and I galloped forward to the grave of the poor lady, I carrying the board on which I had worked the previous evening. Throwing ourselves from our horses, we nailed it to the large log placed over the head. On the board I had carved, with the date of her death, “Lily’s mother sleeps here.”

“I say, Mike, I thought by this time that we should have fought half a dozen battles with the redskins, killed no end of buffalo and deer, unkennelled black bears and grizzlies without number, and trapped beavers and racoons and ’possums by scores!” exclaimed Dan, as we were seated round our camp-fire.

“Wait a bit, my boy, until we get farther on our journey,” remarked Mr Tidey, who overheard Dan, “we shall have adventures enough then to satisfy you, and enable Mike to fill up his journal to overflowing, though, for my part, I confess I shall be very glad, as I suspect will be your father and mother, if we get through without them.”

“Not much chance of that,” I observed, “or we shall be an exception to the general rule. I hope, however, if we do meet with hostile Indians, that we may be able to beat them off. Martin Prentis, who has been a good deal among them, says that they are arrant cowards, and will only attack people when they find them unprepared.”

We were, I should have said, encamped in our usual fashion, near a stream, that we might obtain as much water as we required. Along the bank was a belt of trees with a copse, which afforded us a supply of fire-wood. The weather had been exceedingly hot, and scarcely had we halted than we had to encounter an enemy for which we had not bargained. Swarms of mosquitos attacked us the moment we left the protecting smoke of the fire, buzzing round our heads in countless numbers, stinging our faces and hands and such parts of our legs and ankles as were exposed. Fortunately my mother had some mosquito curtains, within which she and Kathleen obtained shelter at night, though we who had no means of resisting their assaults were so stung that we could scarcely recognise each other.

“In my opinion we shall have a storm before long,” observed Martin Prentis, “the way these creatures bite is a pretty sure sign of what is going to happen.”

Not long after he had made the remark, on looking up at the sky I saw a thick mass of clouds sweeping across it, the stars rapidly disappearing. Suddenly the whole horizon was lighted up with flashes of brilliant flame and reiterated peals of thunder burst forth with fearful loudness. There was, however, but little wind, and as yet no rain had fallen. As Martin had advised, my father had the tilts of the waggons carefully secured with additional ropes over them, as he had also my mother’s tent. The storm drew nearer and nearer. The lightning had hitherto been at a distance, but now thick bars of fire darted through the air, remaining visible for many seconds, zigzagging backwards and forwards before they reached the ground, along which they went hissing like fiery serpents, sometimes striking into it with loud crashes. Again for a minute or two all seemed darkness, then once more the whole heaven was illuminated, the thunder all the time roaring and rattling, now coming from one direction, now from another. Our terrified horses rushed up to the camp seeking protection, although the more stolid oxen appeared indifferent to the uproar. Hitherto the air had been calm. Suddenly a fierce blast swept across the plain, shaking the awnings of the waggons, and threatening to bear them off bodily, or tear them to pieces. Scarcely had the blast struck the camp, than down came the rain. My mother and Kathleen rushed hurriedly into their tent, followed at their invitation by Biddy and Rose, while we sought such shelter as the waggons could afford. That was rain, and not only rain but hail, each piece of ice the size of a pigeon’s egg, some even larger. The rain fell in no small drops, but in sheets of water, and soon converted our camp into a pond, the spot on which my mother’s tent stood happily forming an island. With the crashing of the thunder, the roar of the wind, and the fierce pattering of the rain, we could scarcely hear each other speak. We were thankful that we had already encamped before the storm came on. Hour after hour it raged without giving any sign of diminution. I was seated alongside Uncle Denis, wrapped up in a buffalo robe in one of the waggons nearest to the river, which we could occasionally see by stretching out our necks beyond the canvas as the flashes of lightning darted across it.

“Mike, does it strike you that the water has risen higher than it was when we first encamped? Watch for the next flash, and tell me what you think.”

I did as he directed me.

“It seems to me almost up to the top of the bank,” I answered.

“I hope it won’t come higher, then,” he said, “for if it does, we shall have to harness up, and seek for a more elevated position to spend the remainder of the night, though it won’t be pleasant to have to move while the storm lasts.”

Again looking out, and waiting for another flash, it appeared to me that the water had not only risen to the bank, but had overflowed. It was meandering in various channels over the ground.

I told my uncle, who watched as I had done, until he was convinced in another few minutes that our camp would be completely flooded. He shouted out to my father, who agreed with him. Our first care was to get my mother and Kathleen, with their attendants, into their waggon, and to wrap them up as well as we could. We then, calling to the men, hurried out, splashing over the wet ground, while the rain came like a shower-bath down on our heads, to catch the oxen and harness them up. It was no easy matter to find the animals, as it was only when the lightning flashed forth that we could distinguish them, so pitchy dark was the night. First one team was caught, then another and another, we all shouting at the top of our voices to make ourselves heard. There was no time to be lost; already the water was almost up to the axles. At length, however, we got the oxen harnessed and the horses saddled. First one waggon was drawn out, and then another, but it took some time before all were ready to move forward. The next point to be considered was the direction to take. We might possibly only find ourselves on lower ground, and consequently in deeper water. My father and Uncle Denis, who had mounted their horses, rode forward, telling us to keep shouting, that they might find us again. The lightning continued flashing as before, so that we could see them for a short time as they rode away. My father had directed me to move on in as straight a line as we could keep at right angles from the river, and by turning round I could occasionally get a view of the trees which fringed its banks, showing me that we were as nearly as possible keeping the course he wished. Still I felt very anxious. I had remembered passing along a deep gully which would in all probability be full of water, and before we were aware of it the leading oxen might tumble in, and perhaps drag the waggon after them. I told Martin and another man to go to their heads and feel the way with poles, while the rest of the waggons kept as close as possible one behind the other. The drivers, however, finding the water rising, could with difficulty be induced to follow my orders. Behind us we could hear the sound of the rushing waters as the swollen river swept along, and at intervals the voices of the men driving the rear waggons reached my ears, shouting to us to move faster. We were thus advancing cautiously when I caught sight of a dark object rising up almost before me and apparently reaching to the sky. It was a tree, but in the darkness it seemed of gigantic proportions.

At that moment a vivid flash darted from the clouds, a loud explosion followed with a deafening crash, and the stout trunk was rent asunder, the branches falling on every side, the leading oxen narrowly escaping being crushed. I should have been swept off my frightened horse had he not sprang forward, trembling in every limb. The flash revealed to me one of the gullies I had been anxious to avoid. I shouted to the other men to keep clear of the danger. At the same time a dread seized me lest my father and Uncle Denis might have ridden into it, and have been carried away by the boiling current.

The men replied that they could not see their way, and from the cries which reached me it was evident that the whole train was in confusion. The roar of the waters drowned our voices. At that moment another flash showed me a figure close by my side and I caught the words—

“Me show de way, dare high ground little ahead, come ’long.”

It was Dio, who had leapt from the waggon in which he had been seated and had come to the front, the post of danger. Endowed with a keener eyesight than the rest of us, during darkness he had distinguished the ground which we had failed to see. The leading waggon followed him, and we were soon assured that the ground was rising. Though this was the case, it might again sink and we should be in a worse position than before. I was greatly relieved when I heard a shout in reply to ours and could distinguish the figures of my father and Uncle Denis against the sky. They had found a spot, not likely to be reached by the water they believed, where we could camp for the remainder of the night. They led us to it along the ridge we had gained, avoiding a deep dip, into which, had we descended, we should have been worse off than before. Of course we were all wet to the skin; but, while the rain poured down in bucketfuls as it was doing, we could light no fire to dry our clothes. Still we were thankful that we had escaped the danger which had threatened us, and we managed to place our waggons in the usual position, so that at daylight we might be prepared for enemies should any appear. When morning broke we had reason to be grateful to Heaven that we had moved away in time from the bank of the river, for the ground on which we had encamped was covered with water to the depth apparently of several feet, while the current swept by with a force sufficient to have carried our waggons and cattle away. As the day advanced, the storm ceased, the clouds rolled off and the sun burst forth, his warm rays soon drying our clothes and the wet tilts of the waggons.

The flood had so completely obliterated the trail, that my father and uncle deemed it prudent either to ride on ahead themselves, or to send Mr Tidey and me forward to ascertain the proper route to take. They had gone on in the morning where the road was more difficult, and after our mid-day stoppage the Dominie and I took the lead. In all directions were traces of the storm, trees uprooted, the streams flooded, the ground being covered with broken branches of trees and occasionally we came across the bodies of animals which had been caught by the current and drowned.

As the day was drawing to a close we were looking out for a spot on which to camp for the night. As I gazed ahead I saw some objects moving across the plain.

“Can those be Indians?” I asked, pointing them out to Mr Tidey; “if so, they may be Sioux or Blackfeet and give us some trouble.”

He reined up his horse, and, shading his eyes with his hand, gazed at them steadily. “No, that’s a waggon, and coming this way too,” he answered, “they may be emigrants who have turned back either because they have been frightened by Indians, or having lost some of their cattle by the floods have found it impossible to proceed; supposing the latter to be the case, they appear to be coming on very rapidly.”

“They seem to me to be running away from enemies,” I observed, “however, we shall soon know.”

“At all events we must try to select our camping-ground before they come up, or they may occupy it,” answered Mr Tidey, “there is a stream to the right bordered by trees. It is just the spot we want. Ride back, Mike, and hurry on the waggons. We shall have formed our camp before the strangers arrive.”

While Mr Tidey rode in the direction towards which he pointed, I galloped back and gave notice of the approach of a train from the westward. I had observed an easy pass among the hills which led down to the stream, and through it I was able to guide our waggons. We reached the ground selected by Mr Tidey in good time to camp before dark, and our arrangements had just been concluded when the strangers approached. As they drew near, my father and I went to meet them, to show them a spot near ours where they might encamp. Two men, seeing us coming, advanced towards us: one of them was a sturdy, strong, bold fellow, but the other had nothing of the backwoodsman about him in appearance.

“Glad to fall in with you, strangers,” said the first; “and if you follow my advice, you will turn back with us, unless you wish to have your scalps taken by the Indians or your cattle drowned by the floods, or if you escape them, to die of hunger and thirst as you travel over the desert to the westward, though it’s my opinion you’ll never get many days journey from this.”

“Your report, friend, is not very encouraging,” answered my father, “though, as I am prepared to encounter some difficulty, I cannot promise to follow your advice; however, as we shall spend the evening together we shall hear more of what you have gone through. To save you time, we looked out for a spot for your camp. You cannot do better than occupy it.”

The stranger thanked us. “Whereabouts is it?” he asked.

“It is a little to the westward of where our waggons are drawn up.”

“I’d rather go further east,” said the stranger when he saw it, “and place you between ourselves and the redskins. We’ve had one battle already, and to say the truth have no stomachs for another. You may take your turn next, should they come, and I am not certain that they will not before daybreak.”

“You are welcome to camp where you like,” answered my father, amused at the stranger’s cowardice, of which he did not seem at all ashamed; “we shall look to you, however, to help us in driving back the redskins if they make their appearance.”

We, however, assisted the strangers in finding a suitable spot a little to the eastward of our camp, and in a short time they drew up their waggons on it.

As soon as we had finished supper my father and Uncle Denis and I went over to the strangers’ camp, to hear a further account of their proceedings.

The story they gave of the dangers they had encountered was sufficiently alarming to make persons less determined than my father and uncle give up the expedition they had undertaken. They had narrowly escaped being carried away by a flood the previous evening, and had been only the day before surrounded by a body of Indians, with whom, as it turned out, they had only exchanged shots, when the redskins had retreated without blood being shed. They mentioned, however, another train of four or five waggons which had been some way ahead of them, and told us that they had considerable apprehensions as to their fate.

“We will hope for the best,” said my father, “if the people are prudent and keep a careful watch, I believe they may easily beat off any Indians of these parts, who never attack white men unless they can take them by surprise.”

We did our best to persuade our new acquaintances to turn back once more with us, but they had so completely lost heart that nothing we could say had any effect.

“No, no, friend,” answered their leader, “we committed a folly in leaving our comfortable farm in Ohio. We have made up our minds to be wiser in future, and look out for another location eastward, beyond the reach of the Indians. If you are wise, you will do the same.”

“From my experience I should say that we are as likely to be annoyed by white men as the redskins, and by treating the latter honestly I hope that we shall gain their friendship and have no cause to dread them,” said my father.

“You’ll act as you judge best, but I have warned you of what you may have to expect,” was the answer.

We parted the next morning with mutual expressions of good will, and while the returning emigrants hurried off eastward, we continued our course to the west, the marks made by their waggon wheels enabling us to proceed rapidly until we reached the spot where they had encamped the previous night. Here the truth of their story was corroborated by the appearance of Indian trails which led away westward. We encamped a little further on, and of course kept a careful watch at night, but no enemy appeared.

Next afternoon Mr Tidey and I were riding ahead followed by Boxer and another of our dogs—without whom indeed, we never left the camp, as they were sure to give us timely warning should any Indians be lurking around. We knew, however, that they would not attack the red-men, of whom they seemed to have an instinctive dread, but would silently slink close to us, should any enemies be near. We were looking out, as may be supposed, for Indian trails, as well as for those of the other emigrant train of which we had heard, when we saw signs on the ground which at first puzzled us. We dismounted to examine them more carefully.

“If we had an Indian guide, he would quickly tell us what they mean,” observed the Dominie. “See, here are oxen and wheel tracks, and these are the marks of moccasins. I suspect that a party of Indians out on the war-path have followed the waggons, and I fear after all that the emigrants were not so far wrong in their conjectures as we supposed. I only hope the people on ahead have kept a careful watch and beaten back their wily foe.”

“Let us push on, and try to overtake the Indians before they attack the train,” I said. “When they see another party of white men approaching, they may judge it prudent to give up their enterprise; and if they pursue us, our fast horses will enable us easily to keep out of their way.”

The Dominie, though not blind to the risk we might run, agreed to my proposal; the ground was open and level, and there was no brushwood either to the right or left which might conceal a lurking foe. We accordingly put our horses into a gallop, believing that we should soon come up with the train, or get sight of the Indians, should they still be following it. “The redskins will be looking ahead, and will not discover us until we have seen them,” I observed.

Suddenly the dogs, which had been keeping alongside us, dashed forward, just at the moment that we, from the unevenness of the ground, were compelled to pull up. On reaching the summit of one of the undulations rather than hills, which rise in different parts of the prairie, we saw some objects in the distance which we both agreed must be waggons. As we got nearer we saw that two were upset, and that from a third smoke was ascending, while from another the tilt had been torn off, one only remaining intact.

“That must be the train we are in search of,” observed the Dominie; “it has too evidently been attacked by the Indians; but I see no one moving about. Perhaps the savages caught sight of us, and supposing that we were at the head of a large party, have gone off. We may be in time to help some of the poor people, if any have escaped with their lives, though I fear the worst, as the redskins seldom leave their work half finished, and the chances are that all the white men have been killed.”

We rode forward as fast as the rugged nature of the ground would allow, prepared at any moment to wheel round and gallop back should we catch sight of the savages.

We hoped, however, as the dogs did not return, that we should have no trouble on that account. We were still at some distance from the waggons, when we heard a loud yelping and barking.

“Those sounds came from a pack of wolves,” exclaimed Mr Tidey; “I see the brutes, they are calling to each other, expecting to enjoy a banquet on the dead bodies of the slain.”

Directly afterwards we caught sight of the animals making their way through the brushwood and trees which surrounded the waggons. Above their hideous yelps we could distinguish the deep honest bark of our own dogs. Forgetting for the moment the risk we ran of being surprised, we put spurs to our horses, and galloping over the uneven ground soon got up to the spot. Neither cattle nor horses were visible, they had evidently been carried off. The scene which soon met our eyes filled us with horror.

On the ground lay half-a-dozen men, each of whom had been scalped and their bodies partly stripped. Farther on were two or three more, who had fallen between the waggons. Some of the wolves, more daring than their companions, had advanced at the head of the pack, and would already have commenced the horrible repast had not our two noble dogs, barking furiously, kept them at bay.

“I am afraid we are too late here to be of any use except to bury the dead,” observed Mr Tidey as we surveyed the melancholy scene. “But holloa! what is that among the bushes? A woman,—I see her moving. Perhaps we may be in time to save her.”

Forgetting that the Indians might still be at hand, we dismounted, and fastening our horses to the wheels of one of the waggons, made our way through the brushwood. As we did so, a couple of wolves approached from an opposite direction, and were on the point of seizing the woman’s body, when Boxer and his companion springing forward, they took to flight. We hurried to the assistance of the poor woman. We now saw that it was not she who had moved, but a little girl whose arms were thrown round her.

“Oh! come help Lily!” exclaimed the child, at once recognising us as white men: “look up mother! oh, mother, mother! speak to Lily, one word. White man come to help you, no fear now.”

In vain, however, Lily called to her mother. While I took the child in my arms, Mr Tidey knelt down by the side of the poor lady. The blood which flowed from her breast, and dyed the ground on which she lay, too plainly told that she had received a mortal wound.

“She is beyond our help,” he said; “but I would prevent her body being devoured by these abominable brutes. Do you carry the child, and I will convey the poor mother into the nearest waggon. We can cover her up sufficiently to prevent the wolves getting at her until we return, when we can bury her decently, as well as the rest of the murdered people.”

I did as he advised, and was making my way to where we had left the horses, when I heard a loud explosion, and fragments of all sorts came whizzing through the air: mercifully none of them struck me. I looked round, and was thankful to see Mr Tidey safe. I had forgotten the waggon which we had seen burning. The horses, terrified by the sound, reared and plunged, and broke their bridles. The Dominie, letting the body fall, rushed after his horse; fortunately catching it, he galloped after mine in the direction from which we had come, and I found myself standing alone in the midst of the blackened train, with the little girl clinging to my neck and crying bitterly for her mother to speak to her, while the wolves, driven to a distance by the explosion, howled and yelped around me, though kept from again approaching by the gallant dogs and the shouts I raised for the purpose of keeping them at bay.

I felt that I was in a fearful position. At any moment the savages might return, in the hopes of obtaining more plunder. I had my rifle, and I determined to defend the little girl and myself to the last. A new danger arose: the waggon was burning furiously; the flames might ignite the others, which in all probability also contained kegs of powder, and it was more than likely that the grass would be set on fire and the whole prairie would be in a blaze. Not only should I and my young companion lose our lives, but my friends would be exposed to the most fearful danger. I must endeavour, I saw, to make some effort to prevent the catastrophe; but I had not the heart to force the little girl’s arms from around my neck, and to place her on the ground. I endeavoured to tranquillise her by every means I could think of. At last I bethought me of placing her in the only waggon which remained upright.

“Stay quiet there, Lily,” I observed; “no one will hurt you, and I will come back as soon as possible. I want to try and put out that fire, or it will do us harm.”

“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me,” cried Lily; but as she did not resist. I placed her in the waggon, and begged her to be quiet, while I seized a long stick which lay on the ground, and rushing up to the fire, beat out the flames which already rose from the grass. Mercifully it was not so thick there as in other places a short distance off. I rushed round and round the burning mass, now and then being just in time to reach a snake-like line of flame which was extending towards the brushwood or in the direction of the tall grass, which, had it gained, nothing could have stopped the dreaded catastrophe. I was thus engaged when I heard a loud holloa! For a moment I thought the Indians were upon me, but on looking up, I saw Mr Tidey, leading my horse and followed by Uncle Denis. They were soon up to me, and leaping from their steeds, without stopping to ask questions, commenced stamping out the smouldering fire, which a sudden puff of wind might soon have raised again into a flame. Not until they had succeeded in overcoming the threatened danger did they speak a word. Uncle Denis then told me that they had heard the report; and fearing that we might be exposed to danger, he had galloped forward to ascertain the cause, leaving the waggons under the command of my father, who had made every preparation for resistance in case they should be attacked by the Indians. He had seen Mr Tidey catch my horse, and had been very anxious lest some accident should have befallen me. A few words served to explain what had happened, and I then hurried back to poor little Lily.

“We are safe now, Lily,” I said, “and you must come with me. Do you think you could sit on my horse, while we gallop over the ground?”

“Oh yes, Lily often used to sit on Uncle John’s horse. I not afraid,” she answered. “But mother, where is mother?”

“That other man will take care of her,” I answered evasively. “Come, I want to carry you to friends; I’ve got a little sister, who would be so glad to see you, and so will my mother. She, I know, will take care of you.”

“Lily will go with you,” she answered.

Mounting my horse, I called to Uncle Denis to place Lily in front of me on the saddle.

“Go on, Mike,” he said; “we will do as Mr Tidey proposed with the poor lady, and follow close behind you. The sooner we rejoin the waggons the better, for one can never tell what tricks the redskins may play us. Tell your father that I think he had better camp as soon as he can find a suitable spot.”

I did not stop for further directions, but rode off as fast as I could venture to go, holding Lily tightly with my right arm round her waist before me. I very naturally, as I rode along, kept a look-out on either side, half expecting to see a party of Indians creeping forward to cut me off. I was thankful when I caught sight of the waggons approaching with my father at their head. His astonishment at beholding my young companion was very great. I stopped but for a moment to tell him what had occurred. He ordered the waggons to halt, that I might give Lily over to my mother. She and Kathleen uttered exclamations of surprise at seeing the little girl, while Dio, who was on foot, ran forward and lifted her into the waggon.

“This is my mother, Lily,” I said, “and my little sister Kathleen; I am sure they will be kind and love you very much.”

“That we will,” said my mother, as Lily, looking up in her face, smiled faintly; but she had been too much frightened to speak. As I left her in my mother’s arms I whispered—

“I will tell you by-and-by how I found her, but don’t ask her any questions now, mother.” I made a sign, which I think she understood, to show her that something very dreadful had occurred.

Without stopping further, I returned to my father, to whom I gave my uncle’s message, and as we rode along I told him what had happened. We had not got far when Mr Tidey and Uncle Denis arrived. I saw that both my uncle and the Dominie looked unusually anxious. Just as they were starting they had caught sight of two figures in the distance, which they had no doubt were Indians who had been watching them; they were convinced, moreover, that should an opportunity occur, the savages would attack our camp.

We pushed on accordingly as fast as we could move, until we got within about a mile of the place where the emigrants’ train had been destroyed. It was the first spot suitable for camping. Situated in a slight hollow, four or five hundred yards wide, a deep and pretty broad stream flowing on the north side, with a small wood or copse to the east, while to the west and south the ground sloped upwards and then fell again down to the scene of the catastrophe. We lost no time in unyoking the oxen and placing the waggons in a square, taking even more than usual precautions against an attack. As there was plenty of grass round, we tethered both the cattle and horses close outside the waggons, while three men were told off to keep watch on the top of the ridge, whence we could obtain a wide view over the country. We swept it again and again with our telescopes but could discover no persons moving in the distance. We both saw and heard, however, the horrible wolves, who only waited for nightfall to rush in again on the emigrants’ camp.

“I don’t like the thought of allowing those poor fellows to be devoured by the brutes,” said Uncle Denis. “What do you say, Tidey? Will you accompany me, and try to bury them decently? We will go on horseback, and by keeping a bright look-out, there will be no risk of being surprised by the redskins, should they venture to return. I should like especially to pay all the respect we can to that poor lady.”

“With all my heart,” answered the Dominie, “and if the captain agrees, we will take Martin and Dio.”

“And I’ll go too,” I said, “if my father will allow me.”

As he did not object, we immediately mounted our horses, Uncle Denis and the Dominie each carrying a spade, and the two men a pickaxe a-piece, while Boxer and Toby followed at our heels. As we galloped over the ground, we were not long in reaching the scene of the massacre. Dio, who had the sharpest eyes amongst us, was stationed to keep a look-out, while we, securing our horses, at once set about our melancholy task. We selected a spot under the branches of a wide-spreading oak for the grave of the poor lady. As the ground was soft it was soon dug. We then carried the body to it. We were on the point of placing it in, when the Dominie suggested that we should take off her wedding-ring and any ornament about her, that they might be given to her daughter, and that they might also serve to identify her, so that should we have an opportunity we might inform her relatives and friends of her fate. Besides the plain gold ring, was another of curious workmanship with an amethyst set in it, while secured round her neck by a silk ribbon Uncle Denis discovered a gold locket. Without stopping to examine it he placed it in his pouch. In the waggon were a few articles for family use, but we found nothing of value. No letters; no pocket-book which might serve to tell us who she was; everything had been carried off by the savages. Her husband, probably, was among the murdered men; and if we could find his body, we would, we agreed, place it in the grave of his wife.

“That’s more than we are likely to do,” answered Uncle Denis; “let the poor lady rest alone.”

Accordingly, lifting her up, we placed her in the narrow grave, and although she was a stranger to me, I confess that I burst into tears as we hurriedly threw the earth over her. Martin had in the meantime commenced a larger grave for the men. Had they been our most intimate friends, we should have been unable to recognise them, so fearfully had their countenances been disfigured by the savages. The bodies too had been partly stripped, so that there was little difference in their dress to help us. In vain we endeavoured to ascertain which was the husband of the poor lady, and we had no time to devote to a close examination. We were not long in digging a shallow grave and burying the murdered men side by side.

“We must place some logs over the poor lady’s grave,” said Uncle Denis, “so that we may know it again.”

Mr Tidey agreed, and all of us plying our axes, we managed to pile up a number of logs over the spot. Three fallen trees lay near the larger grave and these we dragged over it, so as to prevent the wolves from disturbing the dead. Dio had in the meantime been riding backward and forwards, shouting out whenever he saw any of the brutes approaching: he was assisted by our two brave dogs, who kept up a constant barking, showing that they understood the duty required of them.

The sun had already set, and as the Indians, should they have been watching us in the distance, might creep up during the darkness, we mounted our horses and rode back as quickly as we could to the camp. My first inquiry was for Lily. She had been crying bitterly for her mother, asking when she would come to her, but had at length fallen asleep, and was now resting inside the tent in Kathleen’s bed.

While seated round the camp-fire an idea came into my head, I procured a piece of board, and with my knife commenced carving an inscription. This I intended fixing the next morning on to the logs above the lady’s grave. It was a question whether I should have an opportunity of erecting it. We might possibly be attacked by an overwhelming body of Indians and have to retreat, or perchance share the fate of the unfortunate people we had buried. As may be supposed, we kept an anxious watch, although there was less chance of our being attacked in the camp than while moving on, as the redskins, in spite of their vaunted bravery, always watch for an opportunity of taking their enemies by surprise, and finding us prepared for them, would probably keep at a distance. Having stood my watch during the early part of the night, I turned in and lay down with my buffalo robe by the side of Dan. I was awakened by my father’s voice arousing the camp. In an instant every one was on foot, fires were made up, and a hurried breakfast taken. We then caught and yoked the oxen, and in the grey of morning recommenced our march. Uncle Denis and the Dominie, acting as scouts, rode a little way in advance on either side, so as to avoid the risk of a surprise. My mother kept little Lily in her arms inside the waggons, so that she could not see the wrecked train. As we approached it Uncle Denis and I galloped forward to the grave of the poor lady, I carrying the board on which I had worked the previous evening. Throwing ourselves from our horses, we nailed it to the large log placed over the head. On the board I had carved, with the date of her death, “Lily’s mother sleeps here.”

Chapter Seven.Across the plains—The march of civilisation—A halt—The trail discovered—On the war-path—An obstacle—Arrival at the river—Examining the camping-ground—An inaccessible point—Erecting fortifications—The way trees are felled in Kentucky—Strengthening our position—Mr Tidey puts us on the alert—Red-skin daring—Round the camp-fire—Evident anxiety of my father and the Dominie—Our strong point—Setting the watch—Driving in the cattle—The lull before the storm.The next day’s journey was an anxious one. We had no doubt that the Indians were watching us, lurking behind trees or shrubs, although they did not show themselves. My father directed that all the horses should be mounted, the men only required to conduct the waggons remaining on foot. The formidable appearance we thus presented undoubtedly prevented our enemies from approaching, still we felt sure that should they find an opportunity of attacking us with advantage, they would be down upon us. In a few days we hoped to reach one of the numerous forts scattered over the continent for the protection of the white men, advancing in constant streams to take possession of the fertile lands to the westward, which had hitherto served only as the hunting-grounds of the red-men. It is not surprising that the so-called savages looked with no friendly eye on the intruders, or should have taken every opportunity of destroying them, in the vain hope of preventing other following in the same direction. The idea, however, that we were intruders did not occur to my father, or to the thousands of other emigrants who were leaving the Eastern States with the object of forming homes for themselves and families in the desert. They saw unlimited tracks of a fertile country stretched out before them without an inhabitant, and they looked upon the savage red man much in the same light as they looked upon the herds of buffalo which roam over the prairies. We had halted for our mid-day rest, without having seen any Indians, though we kept a vigilant look-out on every side. We began to hope therefore, that, content with the plunder they had obtained, they had returned with it to their villages, and that we should reach the fort without being molested. Still my father was too good a soldier not to keep as constant a watch as before. As we expected when we arrived at the fort to remain some days, there would be time for our cattle and horses to rest; we therefore agreed to push on across the prairie faster than we had hitherto done, though of course we should be guided as to our camping-places by the necessary requirements of water, grass, and wood for fuel. We might thus have to halt earlier in the day than we wished, or continue on later in the evening. The latter alternative it was important, if possible, to avoid, as should any Indians be in the neighbourhood they might attack us. The only means of averting the danger of being surprised while on the move, was to scout at a greater range than usual, so as to discover any lurking foes. While travelling I was seldom able to exchange a word with my mother and Kathleen, but as soon as we halted, I went to the waggon to inquire how little Lily was getting on. She at once recognised me.“Have you found mother? is she coming back to Lily soon?” she asked. I pointed to my mother and then to Kathleen.“She will be your mother, and Kathleen will be your sister,” I answered; “they will love you very much, as I told you.”“Yes, they are very kind to Lily, they love Lily I know,” she said, giving Kathleen a kiss.“You shall be my new sister; I am so glad to have one,” said Kathleen, returning her embrace.Lily smiled, and I knew that though she might not forget her own mother, she would soon be happy with those who were so anxious to treat her kindly. Still I observed that she every now and then gave a startled look around, showing that she had not forgotten the scene she had witnessed on the previous day. I hoped for her sake as well as for that of all of us, that she would never again be exposed to so fearful a danger.I should have said that Uncle Denis had given my mother the locket and rings belonging to the murdered lady.“You will take better care of them than I can,” he said, a he drew them out of his pouch wrapped in a piece of buck skin, and handed them to her without looking at them. “When the little girl is old enough you can give them to her, and tell her how they were obtained: she will long before that have forgotten all about the circumstances.”My mother, not having time to examine them, put them carefully in a bag containing cherished treasures of her own.We had scarcely halted two hours, when my father’s voice was heard, ordering the men to prepare for moving on. The oxen were soon yoked to, the horses saddled, and we continued our journey across the boundless plain.It was my turn to scout ahead with Mr Tidey. My father had charged us not to go so far as to run the risk of being cut off from the train. We therefore frequently halted, especially when we gained the summit of any of the slight elevations which are frequently met with on the prairie. I was a short distance ahead when I saw some marks on the ground which I fancied must be the trail of buffaloes. I waited until my companion came up, when I pointed them out to him.“That’s an Indian trail,” he said, as he carefully examined the marks. “See, there are three paths close together at fixed distances apart. I will tell you how they are produced. The framework of their lodges are made, as you know, of long poles. These on a journey are tied to each side of a pony, the ends trailing on the ground. It is very evident from the way the grass is trampled down, that a long line of ponies has passed this way, one following the other. The centre line, which is deepest, you see, is caused by the feet of the ponies and the two outer lines by the trailing of the poles over the ground. There must have been women and children with them, which is satisfactory, as it shows that although the party was a large one, they were not out on the war-path. They were going northward, crossing our course; whether the men who attacked the emigrant train belong to them or not, it is hard to say; perhaps they were the braves of another tribe, and those whose trail we see were escaping from them.”“You read the marks as well as an Indian could do,” I observed; “and I have no doubt that you are right.”“I have given my mind to the subject, and the man who improves his opportunities in these wilds can soon attain the knowledge possessed by the redskins. I have met with many white trappers and hunters who were fully equal to the most sagacious Indian scouts.”“What do you advise then?” I asked.“That we should proceed straight on, as we are going, and keep as strict a watch at night and as bright a look-out during the day as heretofore. The poor fellows who have been massacred must have been very careless, and allowed themselves to be deceived by the Indians. It was evidently an act of treachery, and I should say that a party of the Indians made their way into the camp on some pretence or other, probably of trading, and suddenly attacked their too confiding hosts. I observed that none of the white men had been killed by bullets or arrows, and it is likely that the poor lady lost her life by a stray shot from one of her own party.”“We had better let my father and Uncle Denis know that we have seen the trails, and they will judge what is best to be done,” I observed.“Ride back then, Mike, and tell them what I advise,” answered Mr Tidey; “I will continue to look out ahead. Just say that I think it possible that another war-party may be pursuing the tribe whose trail we have seen, and disappointed at not overtaking them, that they may make an attempt on our camp, or venture to attack us on the march.”I accordingly galloped back, looking as I did so to the southward, as it was from that direction the war-party might, I thought, appear. I however saw no human beings moving in the distance, but I caught sight of a herd of deer, and greatly longed to be able to go in chase, as we were much in want of fresh provisions. We had intended to halt for the purpose of hunting, but the risk of falling in with enemies made my father deem it prudent not to allow any one to go to a distance from the camp. I soon got back to the waggons, and reported what Mr Tidey had said.“We will follow his advice,” said my father, “and if Indians appear, we may, I hope, send them to the right-about. We will at all events take good care not to allow any strangers to enter our camp, or to come within range of our rifles while we are on the march. Now go, Mike, to the support of Mr Tidey; but keep in sight, and fall back should you see any Indians approaching.”I was soon up with the Dominie. “If all travellers were as cautious as your father, the redskins would not so often succeed,” he observed.We were now crossing an elevated plateau with slightly undulating ground in the far distance. By standing up in our stirrups we could obtain a wide view over the country on every side. We had not proceeded far when I saw, away to the southward, what seemed like a huge serpent moving through the grass, although I knew very well that a serpent it could not be. I pointed it out to my companion, who carried a telescope at his back, telling him what I at first thought it like.He took a glance through the glass. “The distance deceives you,” he answered, as calmly as if it was a matter of very little consequence, “that is a band of Indians on the war-path. I am certain of it. They are moving eastward; probably they are scouts, and long ago have discovered our waggons. What their intention is, I cannot say, but possibly it is to get into our rear, without, as they suppose, being seen. We must keep an eye upon them, but not on any account alter our course.”As before, I rode back to tell my father what we had seen. He also had discovered the war-party, and had determined what to do. The rough map we possessed showed us that there was a river ahead, but its character and the position of the fords were indistinctly marked. His object was, if possible, to cross before nightfall, so as to place it between our camp and the enemy. From thence a horseman could reach Fort Hamilton by galloping hard, in three or four days, we calculated, and should the Indians appear in overwhelming numbers, we might send forward for assistance. Either Mr Tidey or Uncle Denis would be ready to undertake the expedition. Just as I was about to rejoin him, Mr Tidey fell back to consult with my father and uncle. At that moment too Dio came up from the rear, where he had been stationed; to tell us that he had made out another numerous party of Indians following our trail, but that they were still so far off that some time must elapse before they could overtake us. On hearing this my father hurried to the rear, to take a look at the strangers through his telescope. He immediately sent back Dio, who had accompanied him, to tell the drivers to push forward, with the utmost speed of which the oxen were capable, while Mr Tidey and I once more rode ahead to ascertain the best ground for the train to pass over. We could no longer make out the Indians we had before seen to the southward. We conjectured therefore that they had concealed themselves, and intended joining the party following our trail.“They must have halted, or we should by this time have seen them nearer,” observed Mr Tidey. “My idea is that they are waiting for the chance of our train being stopped by a break-down, and fancy that they shall take us by surprise while we are off our guard. They are evidently under the impression that we have not discovered them, for though they are well aware that our rifles can shoot further than their bows and arrows, they are fortunately ignorant of the power of the telescope, and that we can see them much further than they can see us, keen as is their eyesight.”Whatever might have been the intention of the savages, they did not approach. We rode on, without having to deviate from our course, the ground being sufficiently level for the transit of the waggons. In a short time we saw extended before us an undulating region, though we had little doubt that we should be able to proceed along the hollows, without having to make any great détour. Already the evening was approaching, and as we had not found water during the day, we were eagerly looking out for a stream or pond at which we and our animals might quench our thirst. The sun was shining brightly, and, late in the day as it was, the heat was considerable. Presently I caught the sheen of water, but it appeared to be much below the level on which we were riding. I pointed it out to Mr Tidey, and as we galloped on we saw the summit of a line of cliffs.“There is a river between us and the ground we wish to reach,” observed Mr Tidey, “and I very much fear it is one we shall find it difficult to cross.”“If you will hold my horse, I will go ahead and ascertain the nature of the ground,” I said.“Be careful then, for I should not be surprised if you found yourself suddenly on the brink of a precipice,” replied Mr Tidey, as I dismounted carrying my rifle.“Never fear,” I answered as I ran forward. I had not gone fifty yards when I saw a deep gully on my right hand, and in another minute discovered a river a hundred feet below me fringed by trees, beyond which rose a line of perpendicular cliffs, the tops of which we had seen in the distance. Gazing up and down the stream I could perceive no place by which the waggons could pass. I returned to my companion, and we rode together for some distance to the south-west, in the hopes of finding the ground slope down to a level with the water. We were, however, disappointed. It was therefore necessary to return to the train and to inform my father of our discovery, that he might decide what course to take. This then was the point towards which the wily Indians had seen us proceeding and had hoped that we should not perceive our danger until the leading waggon had gone over the cliff, when they would have taken the opportunity, so we fancied, of setting on us and gaining an easy victory.They would, however, be disappointed, though we might find it difficult to select a suitable spot for camping, where we could obtain water and fuel, and at the same time defend ourselves should we be attacked.On getting back to the train, we learned that the Indians had not again been seen. My father, on hearing our report, directed our course as Mr Tidey advised, to the south-west.We had still more than an hour of daylight, and we calculated that we should have time before dark to reach the river, though it was doubtful whether we should find a practicable way down to the water.Never before had the poor oxen been made to go so fast, for our safety might depend on our reaching the river before Mr Tidey and I once more rode forward. At length we found the ground decline slightly in the direction we were going. “As we are still evidently at a considerable height above the level of the stream, though perhaps we shall be unable to cross, we may camp near the edge of the cliffs, so that, at all events, we shall be safe from attack on that side,” I observed.“Not so sure of that,” said Mr Tidey. “The Indians may know of a path up them which we may fail to discover, and if so, the cunning rascals will be sure to take advantage of it and endeavour to surprise us, besides which, some of our cattle and horses may chance to tumble over it and break their necks. However, as we are aware of the dangers, we may guard against them.”A few minutes after this, we found ourselves once more close to the river.“If you will hold my horse I will run along the brink of the precipice and try to discover a way down to the water,” I said; “there is no lack of wood near the margin of the river, so if we can get down the cliffs we shall be able to obtain both those necessary articles.” Still the cliffs were so steep, that I was almost in despair when I saw another gully, similar to the one I had before passed. On examining it, greatly to my satisfaction I found that it formed a deep notch as it were in the precipice, and that not only could a person on foot descend by it with the greatest ease to the river, but that even horses and cattle might make their way to the water. I shouted to Mr Tidey, who, coming up, agreed with me that we could not hope for a better place for camping. We accordingly galloped back to the train, and soon brought the waggons up to the spot, with which my father was perfectly satisfied. While the rest of the party were employed in placing the waggons so as to form the sides of a square, the cliffs and the gully serving as the two other sides to our camp, Mr Tidey, Dan, and I set off to explore the gully, for which purpose but little light now remained.“Be cautious, boys, for that brushwood may conceal a lurking foe, though I don’t think a red-skin is likely to show himself when he sees three rifles which may shoot him down if he does so,” said the Dominie, as we commenced our descent. We found that by cutting away the brushwood and the trunks of a few trees we might form a road down to the level of the river, and that we might at once lead the horses and oxen to water. It was necessary, however, first to examine the foot of the cliff above which we were encamped, that we might ascertain what security it would afford us against a surprise from Indians on that side. On looking up it appeared to me to be perfectly precipitous, a few shrubs, however, projected here and there from the crevices of the rock, but they would not, I fancied, enable the most active savage to climb up, though by dropping from one to the other, a person might reach the bottom without breaking his neck. We examined the cliffs for some distance to the northward, of our camp. They retained the same character all the way.“No savages can get up there, at all events,” I observed, as we were returning.“Not quite so sure of that,” answered Mr Tidey. “We will not trust entirely to them. I will advise your father to post a sentinel on that side as well as the others.” We hurried back, and were in time to assist in leading the horses and cattle down to the river. It would have been a fine opportunity for any lurking foes to have carried them off; probably, however, no Indians were in the neighbourhood, or if they were, they were deterred from approaching by seeing our rifles in our hands ready for action. My father was fully alive to the importance of guarding the two sides formed by the gully and the cliff, and he ordered all hands not required to keep guard on the outside of the camp, to employ their axes in cutting down enough timber for forming a breastwork,—by so doing we should, he remarked, lay bare the side of the gully and deprive our assailants of the protection the brushwood might afford them.“If we are only to spend one night here, I wonder father thinks it necessary to take so much trouble,” observed Dan.“If the trouble is not taken, it might prove our last night, my boy,” answered the Dominie, who overheard him: “if we cannot manage to keep the Indians out of the camp, we may find our scalps off our heads before the morning.”Two or three of the men, who were somewhat discontented with the last few days’ hard travelling and short commons, though they had hitherto gone on without grumbling, began to express themselves much as Dan had done. Dio, who had been engaged in arranging the camp, and who had just come up axe in hand, overheard them.“What you say, you boys?” he exclaimed; “dis niggar show you how to chop de trees,” and, raising his axe, he began to strike away with a vigour which quickly cut through half a stout trunk. “Dare, dat de way dey chop in Kentucky!” he again exclaimed, as the tree came down with a crash. Tree after tree quickly fell beneath his axe. The rest of the men, put to shame by his zeal, followed his example, and we soon had timber sufficient for our purpose.Our next business was to drag it into the required position.This we did with the help of the oxen, for without them we should have been unable to accomplish the undertaking.At length we got up a rough breastwork on two sides of the camp, while our waggons and their cargoes, with the aid of a few additional posts, served to strengthen our position.We surveyed our fort with considerable satisfaction. One side we might consider impregnable; the second, that along the edge of the ravine, was not likely to be attacked, and we had a sufficient force of rifles to defend the other two against a whole horde of savages without fire-arms.“Yes, our fort is a strong one,” observed the Dominie, “but many a stronger has been captured when the garrison thought themselves secure. We must still be on the watch against surprise or treachery. Depend upon it, the red-skins will employ their usual cunning rather than run the risk of losing their lives by an open assault on our position. Your father is too old a soldier not to think of that, but I want to impress the importance of the matter on your uncle and the rest of the men, who appear to fancy that all we shall have to do is to remain here quietly, until the captain thinks fit to move on again.”“I’ll promise you to keep my eyes open, and to impress the same duty on the other men,” I answered.“Especially keep them open towards the very point which you fancy so secure, down that cliff. You or I might find it a tough job to climb up it with our boots and gaiters, and heavy coats, but a half-naked savage, with his scalping-knife in his teeth, would not think it so hard a matter, and hard or not hard, if mortal man can do it, he’ll try, if he hopes to catch us napping when he gets to the top.”We were now summoned to the supper which had been in the meantime preparing, and my mother, with Kathleen and Lily, followed by Biddy and the nurse Rose, joined us round the camp-fire. The security which we now enjoyed made us forget the dangers we had passed, and those we might anticipate, and put us all into good spirits.Of course the usual number of men were on the watch, but I observed that my father was constantly in the attitude of listening; and both he and the Dominie frequently got up and walked round the camp, the Dominie especially taking many a peep over the breastwork above the cliff.“In my opinion, that part should not be left unguarded for a moment,” he said. “The rush of the water below prevents us from hearing anyone moving beneath, and we can hardly see ten feet down, while an Indian would not take half as many seconds to spring to the top and be in our midst.”As it was important that the men should obtain some rest after the fatigues they had gone through, those not required to be on guard were ordered to lie down. Before doing so, however, the horses and cattle were brought inside the camp, where they might be in security should the Indians suddenly come upon us during the hours of darkness.My father, Uncle Denis, and the Dominie divided the watch between them, so that one was always on duty. I was appointed to act under Mr Tidey, and it fell to his lot to keep the morning watch. I don’t think I ever slept more soundly in my life, for I had been on horseback, or in active exercise since sunrise. I rubbed my eyes when called by Uncle Denis.“We have had a quiet night, not a sign of the redskins, and I suspect, should they have reconnoitred our camp from a distance, they have thought it wise to let it alone,” he said.“You may be right, Mr O’Dwyer; but, notwithstanding, the night is not over, and until I see the sun rise I shall not be satisfied that we are to move on without a skirmish,” observed the Dominie.“Well, well! I hope to get my night’s rest out without interruption,” answered Uncle Denis, as he stretched himself on the ground, and turned on his side to go to sleep.

The next day’s journey was an anxious one. We had no doubt that the Indians were watching us, lurking behind trees or shrubs, although they did not show themselves. My father directed that all the horses should be mounted, the men only required to conduct the waggons remaining on foot. The formidable appearance we thus presented undoubtedly prevented our enemies from approaching, still we felt sure that should they find an opportunity of attacking us with advantage, they would be down upon us. In a few days we hoped to reach one of the numerous forts scattered over the continent for the protection of the white men, advancing in constant streams to take possession of the fertile lands to the westward, which had hitherto served only as the hunting-grounds of the red-men. It is not surprising that the so-called savages looked with no friendly eye on the intruders, or should have taken every opportunity of destroying them, in the vain hope of preventing other following in the same direction. The idea, however, that we were intruders did not occur to my father, or to the thousands of other emigrants who were leaving the Eastern States with the object of forming homes for themselves and families in the desert. They saw unlimited tracks of a fertile country stretched out before them without an inhabitant, and they looked upon the savage red man much in the same light as they looked upon the herds of buffalo which roam over the prairies. We had halted for our mid-day rest, without having seen any Indians, though we kept a vigilant look-out on every side. We began to hope therefore, that, content with the plunder they had obtained, they had returned with it to their villages, and that we should reach the fort without being molested. Still my father was too good a soldier not to keep as constant a watch as before. As we expected when we arrived at the fort to remain some days, there would be time for our cattle and horses to rest; we therefore agreed to push on across the prairie faster than we had hitherto done, though of course we should be guided as to our camping-places by the necessary requirements of water, grass, and wood for fuel. We might thus have to halt earlier in the day than we wished, or continue on later in the evening. The latter alternative it was important, if possible, to avoid, as should any Indians be in the neighbourhood they might attack us. The only means of averting the danger of being surprised while on the move, was to scout at a greater range than usual, so as to discover any lurking foes. While travelling I was seldom able to exchange a word with my mother and Kathleen, but as soon as we halted, I went to the waggon to inquire how little Lily was getting on. She at once recognised me.

“Have you found mother? is she coming back to Lily soon?” she asked. I pointed to my mother and then to Kathleen.

“She will be your mother, and Kathleen will be your sister,” I answered; “they will love you very much, as I told you.”

“Yes, they are very kind to Lily, they love Lily I know,” she said, giving Kathleen a kiss.

“You shall be my new sister; I am so glad to have one,” said Kathleen, returning her embrace.

Lily smiled, and I knew that though she might not forget her own mother, she would soon be happy with those who were so anxious to treat her kindly. Still I observed that she every now and then gave a startled look around, showing that she had not forgotten the scene she had witnessed on the previous day. I hoped for her sake as well as for that of all of us, that she would never again be exposed to so fearful a danger.

I should have said that Uncle Denis had given my mother the locket and rings belonging to the murdered lady.

“You will take better care of them than I can,” he said, a he drew them out of his pouch wrapped in a piece of buck skin, and handed them to her without looking at them. “When the little girl is old enough you can give them to her, and tell her how they were obtained: she will long before that have forgotten all about the circumstances.”

My mother, not having time to examine them, put them carefully in a bag containing cherished treasures of her own.

We had scarcely halted two hours, when my father’s voice was heard, ordering the men to prepare for moving on. The oxen were soon yoked to, the horses saddled, and we continued our journey across the boundless plain.

It was my turn to scout ahead with Mr Tidey. My father had charged us not to go so far as to run the risk of being cut off from the train. We therefore frequently halted, especially when we gained the summit of any of the slight elevations which are frequently met with on the prairie. I was a short distance ahead when I saw some marks on the ground which I fancied must be the trail of buffaloes. I waited until my companion came up, when I pointed them out to him.

“That’s an Indian trail,” he said, as he carefully examined the marks. “See, there are three paths close together at fixed distances apart. I will tell you how they are produced. The framework of their lodges are made, as you know, of long poles. These on a journey are tied to each side of a pony, the ends trailing on the ground. It is very evident from the way the grass is trampled down, that a long line of ponies has passed this way, one following the other. The centre line, which is deepest, you see, is caused by the feet of the ponies and the two outer lines by the trailing of the poles over the ground. There must have been women and children with them, which is satisfactory, as it shows that although the party was a large one, they were not out on the war-path. They were going northward, crossing our course; whether the men who attacked the emigrant train belong to them or not, it is hard to say; perhaps they were the braves of another tribe, and those whose trail we see were escaping from them.”

“You read the marks as well as an Indian could do,” I observed; “and I have no doubt that you are right.”

“I have given my mind to the subject, and the man who improves his opportunities in these wilds can soon attain the knowledge possessed by the redskins. I have met with many white trappers and hunters who were fully equal to the most sagacious Indian scouts.”

“What do you advise then?” I asked.

“That we should proceed straight on, as we are going, and keep as strict a watch at night and as bright a look-out during the day as heretofore. The poor fellows who have been massacred must have been very careless, and allowed themselves to be deceived by the Indians. It was evidently an act of treachery, and I should say that a party of the Indians made their way into the camp on some pretence or other, probably of trading, and suddenly attacked their too confiding hosts. I observed that none of the white men had been killed by bullets or arrows, and it is likely that the poor lady lost her life by a stray shot from one of her own party.”

“We had better let my father and Uncle Denis know that we have seen the trails, and they will judge what is best to be done,” I observed.

“Ride back then, Mike, and tell them what I advise,” answered Mr Tidey; “I will continue to look out ahead. Just say that I think it possible that another war-party may be pursuing the tribe whose trail we have seen, and disappointed at not overtaking them, that they may make an attempt on our camp, or venture to attack us on the march.”

I accordingly galloped back, looking as I did so to the southward, as it was from that direction the war-party might, I thought, appear. I however saw no human beings moving in the distance, but I caught sight of a herd of deer, and greatly longed to be able to go in chase, as we were much in want of fresh provisions. We had intended to halt for the purpose of hunting, but the risk of falling in with enemies made my father deem it prudent not to allow any one to go to a distance from the camp. I soon got back to the waggons, and reported what Mr Tidey had said.

“We will follow his advice,” said my father, “and if Indians appear, we may, I hope, send them to the right-about. We will at all events take good care not to allow any strangers to enter our camp, or to come within range of our rifles while we are on the march. Now go, Mike, to the support of Mr Tidey; but keep in sight, and fall back should you see any Indians approaching.”

I was soon up with the Dominie. “If all travellers were as cautious as your father, the redskins would not so often succeed,” he observed.

We were now crossing an elevated plateau with slightly undulating ground in the far distance. By standing up in our stirrups we could obtain a wide view over the country on every side. We had not proceeded far when I saw, away to the southward, what seemed like a huge serpent moving through the grass, although I knew very well that a serpent it could not be. I pointed it out to my companion, who carried a telescope at his back, telling him what I at first thought it like.

He took a glance through the glass. “The distance deceives you,” he answered, as calmly as if it was a matter of very little consequence, “that is a band of Indians on the war-path. I am certain of it. They are moving eastward; probably they are scouts, and long ago have discovered our waggons. What their intention is, I cannot say, but possibly it is to get into our rear, without, as they suppose, being seen. We must keep an eye upon them, but not on any account alter our course.”

As before, I rode back to tell my father what we had seen. He also had discovered the war-party, and had determined what to do. The rough map we possessed showed us that there was a river ahead, but its character and the position of the fords were indistinctly marked. His object was, if possible, to cross before nightfall, so as to place it between our camp and the enemy. From thence a horseman could reach Fort Hamilton by galloping hard, in three or four days, we calculated, and should the Indians appear in overwhelming numbers, we might send forward for assistance. Either Mr Tidey or Uncle Denis would be ready to undertake the expedition. Just as I was about to rejoin him, Mr Tidey fell back to consult with my father and uncle. At that moment too Dio came up from the rear, where he had been stationed; to tell us that he had made out another numerous party of Indians following our trail, but that they were still so far off that some time must elapse before they could overtake us. On hearing this my father hurried to the rear, to take a look at the strangers through his telescope. He immediately sent back Dio, who had accompanied him, to tell the drivers to push forward, with the utmost speed of which the oxen were capable, while Mr Tidey and I once more rode ahead to ascertain the best ground for the train to pass over. We could no longer make out the Indians we had before seen to the southward. We conjectured therefore that they had concealed themselves, and intended joining the party following our trail.

“They must have halted, or we should by this time have seen them nearer,” observed Mr Tidey. “My idea is that they are waiting for the chance of our train being stopped by a break-down, and fancy that they shall take us by surprise while we are off our guard. They are evidently under the impression that we have not discovered them, for though they are well aware that our rifles can shoot further than their bows and arrows, they are fortunately ignorant of the power of the telescope, and that we can see them much further than they can see us, keen as is their eyesight.”

Whatever might have been the intention of the savages, they did not approach. We rode on, without having to deviate from our course, the ground being sufficiently level for the transit of the waggons. In a short time we saw extended before us an undulating region, though we had little doubt that we should be able to proceed along the hollows, without having to make any great détour. Already the evening was approaching, and as we had not found water during the day, we were eagerly looking out for a stream or pond at which we and our animals might quench our thirst. The sun was shining brightly, and, late in the day as it was, the heat was considerable. Presently I caught the sheen of water, but it appeared to be much below the level on which we were riding. I pointed it out to Mr Tidey, and as we galloped on we saw the summit of a line of cliffs.

“There is a river between us and the ground we wish to reach,” observed Mr Tidey, “and I very much fear it is one we shall find it difficult to cross.”

“If you will hold my horse, I will go ahead and ascertain the nature of the ground,” I said.

“Be careful then, for I should not be surprised if you found yourself suddenly on the brink of a precipice,” replied Mr Tidey, as I dismounted carrying my rifle.

“Never fear,” I answered as I ran forward. I had not gone fifty yards when I saw a deep gully on my right hand, and in another minute discovered a river a hundred feet below me fringed by trees, beyond which rose a line of perpendicular cliffs, the tops of which we had seen in the distance. Gazing up and down the stream I could perceive no place by which the waggons could pass. I returned to my companion, and we rode together for some distance to the south-west, in the hopes of finding the ground slope down to a level with the water. We were, however, disappointed. It was therefore necessary to return to the train and to inform my father of our discovery, that he might decide what course to take. This then was the point towards which the wily Indians had seen us proceeding and had hoped that we should not perceive our danger until the leading waggon had gone over the cliff, when they would have taken the opportunity, so we fancied, of setting on us and gaining an easy victory.

They would, however, be disappointed, though we might find it difficult to select a suitable spot for camping, where we could obtain water and fuel, and at the same time defend ourselves should we be attacked.

On getting back to the train, we learned that the Indians had not again been seen. My father, on hearing our report, directed our course as Mr Tidey advised, to the south-west.

We had still more than an hour of daylight, and we calculated that we should have time before dark to reach the river, though it was doubtful whether we should find a practicable way down to the water.

Never before had the poor oxen been made to go so fast, for our safety might depend on our reaching the river before Mr Tidey and I once more rode forward. At length we found the ground decline slightly in the direction we were going. “As we are still evidently at a considerable height above the level of the stream, though perhaps we shall be unable to cross, we may camp near the edge of the cliffs, so that, at all events, we shall be safe from attack on that side,” I observed.

“Not so sure of that,” said Mr Tidey. “The Indians may know of a path up them which we may fail to discover, and if so, the cunning rascals will be sure to take advantage of it and endeavour to surprise us, besides which, some of our cattle and horses may chance to tumble over it and break their necks. However, as we are aware of the dangers, we may guard against them.”

A few minutes after this, we found ourselves once more close to the river.

“If you will hold my horse I will run along the brink of the precipice and try to discover a way down to the water,” I said; “there is no lack of wood near the margin of the river, so if we can get down the cliffs we shall be able to obtain both those necessary articles.” Still the cliffs were so steep, that I was almost in despair when I saw another gully, similar to the one I had before passed. On examining it, greatly to my satisfaction I found that it formed a deep notch as it were in the precipice, and that not only could a person on foot descend by it with the greatest ease to the river, but that even horses and cattle might make their way to the water. I shouted to Mr Tidey, who, coming up, agreed with me that we could not hope for a better place for camping. We accordingly galloped back to the train, and soon brought the waggons up to the spot, with which my father was perfectly satisfied. While the rest of the party were employed in placing the waggons so as to form the sides of a square, the cliffs and the gully serving as the two other sides to our camp, Mr Tidey, Dan, and I set off to explore the gully, for which purpose but little light now remained.

“Be cautious, boys, for that brushwood may conceal a lurking foe, though I don’t think a red-skin is likely to show himself when he sees three rifles which may shoot him down if he does so,” said the Dominie, as we commenced our descent. We found that by cutting away the brushwood and the trunks of a few trees we might form a road down to the level of the river, and that we might at once lead the horses and oxen to water. It was necessary, however, first to examine the foot of the cliff above which we were encamped, that we might ascertain what security it would afford us against a surprise from Indians on that side. On looking up it appeared to me to be perfectly precipitous, a few shrubs, however, projected here and there from the crevices of the rock, but they would not, I fancied, enable the most active savage to climb up, though by dropping from one to the other, a person might reach the bottom without breaking his neck. We examined the cliffs for some distance to the northward, of our camp. They retained the same character all the way.

“No savages can get up there, at all events,” I observed, as we were returning.

“Not quite so sure of that,” answered Mr Tidey. “We will not trust entirely to them. I will advise your father to post a sentinel on that side as well as the others.” We hurried back, and were in time to assist in leading the horses and cattle down to the river. It would have been a fine opportunity for any lurking foes to have carried them off; probably, however, no Indians were in the neighbourhood, or if they were, they were deterred from approaching by seeing our rifles in our hands ready for action. My father was fully alive to the importance of guarding the two sides formed by the gully and the cliff, and he ordered all hands not required to keep guard on the outside of the camp, to employ their axes in cutting down enough timber for forming a breastwork,—by so doing we should, he remarked, lay bare the side of the gully and deprive our assailants of the protection the brushwood might afford them.

“If we are only to spend one night here, I wonder father thinks it necessary to take so much trouble,” observed Dan.

“If the trouble is not taken, it might prove our last night, my boy,” answered the Dominie, who overheard him: “if we cannot manage to keep the Indians out of the camp, we may find our scalps off our heads before the morning.”

Two or three of the men, who were somewhat discontented with the last few days’ hard travelling and short commons, though they had hitherto gone on without grumbling, began to express themselves much as Dan had done. Dio, who had been engaged in arranging the camp, and who had just come up axe in hand, overheard them.

“What you say, you boys?” he exclaimed; “dis niggar show you how to chop de trees,” and, raising his axe, he began to strike away with a vigour which quickly cut through half a stout trunk. “Dare, dat de way dey chop in Kentucky!” he again exclaimed, as the tree came down with a crash. Tree after tree quickly fell beneath his axe. The rest of the men, put to shame by his zeal, followed his example, and we soon had timber sufficient for our purpose.

Our next business was to drag it into the required position.

This we did with the help of the oxen, for without them we should have been unable to accomplish the undertaking.

At length we got up a rough breastwork on two sides of the camp, while our waggons and their cargoes, with the aid of a few additional posts, served to strengthen our position.

We surveyed our fort with considerable satisfaction. One side we might consider impregnable; the second, that along the edge of the ravine, was not likely to be attacked, and we had a sufficient force of rifles to defend the other two against a whole horde of savages without fire-arms.

“Yes, our fort is a strong one,” observed the Dominie, “but many a stronger has been captured when the garrison thought themselves secure. We must still be on the watch against surprise or treachery. Depend upon it, the red-skins will employ their usual cunning rather than run the risk of losing their lives by an open assault on our position. Your father is too old a soldier not to think of that, but I want to impress the importance of the matter on your uncle and the rest of the men, who appear to fancy that all we shall have to do is to remain here quietly, until the captain thinks fit to move on again.”

“I’ll promise you to keep my eyes open, and to impress the same duty on the other men,” I answered.

“Especially keep them open towards the very point which you fancy so secure, down that cliff. You or I might find it a tough job to climb up it with our boots and gaiters, and heavy coats, but a half-naked savage, with his scalping-knife in his teeth, would not think it so hard a matter, and hard or not hard, if mortal man can do it, he’ll try, if he hopes to catch us napping when he gets to the top.”

We were now summoned to the supper which had been in the meantime preparing, and my mother, with Kathleen and Lily, followed by Biddy and the nurse Rose, joined us round the camp-fire. The security which we now enjoyed made us forget the dangers we had passed, and those we might anticipate, and put us all into good spirits.

Of course the usual number of men were on the watch, but I observed that my father was constantly in the attitude of listening; and both he and the Dominie frequently got up and walked round the camp, the Dominie especially taking many a peep over the breastwork above the cliff.

“In my opinion, that part should not be left unguarded for a moment,” he said. “The rush of the water below prevents us from hearing anyone moving beneath, and we can hardly see ten feet down, while an Indian would not take half as many seconds to spring to the top and be in our midst.”

As it was important that the men should obtain some rest after the fatigues they had gone through, those not required to be on guard were ordered to lie down. Before doing so, however, the horses and cattle were brought inside the camp, where they might be in security should the Indians suddenly come upon us during the hours of darkness.

My father, Uncle Denis, and the Dominie divided the watch between them, so that one was always on duty. I was appointed to act under Mr Tidey, and it fell to his lot to keep the morning watch. I don’t think I ever slept more soundly in my life, for I had been on horseback, or in active exercise since sunrise. I rubbed my eyes when called by Uncle Denis.

“We have had a quiet night, not a sign of the redskins, and I suspect, should they have reconnoitred our camp from a distance, they have thought it wise to let it alone,” he said.

“You may be right, Mr O’Dwyer; but, notwithstanding, the night is not over, and until I see the sun rise I shall not be satisfied that we are to move on without a skirmish,” observed the Dominie.

“Well, well! I hope to get my night’s rest out without interruption,” answered Uncle Denis, as he stretched himself on the ground, and turned on his side to go to sleep.

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