scalp first. But don't fear for me. You've often said the Lord would
protect me. So he will, mother, for sure it's an errand o' peace."

"Ay that's it, that's it," murmured the widow in a half-soliloquy.

Dick Varley spent that night in converse with his mother, and next
morning at daybreak he was at the place of meeting, mounted on his
sturdy little horse, with the "silver rifle" on his shoulder and
Crusoe by his side.

"That's right, lad, that's right. Nothin' like keepin' yer time," said
Joe, as he led out a pack-horse from the gate of the block-house,
while his own charger was held ready saddled by a man named Daniel
Brand, who had been appointed to the charge of the block-house in his
absence.

"Where's Henri?--oh, here he comes!" exclaimed Dick, as the hunter
referred to came thundering up the slope at a charge, on a horse
that resembled its rider in size and not a little in clumsiness of
appearance.

"Ah! mes boy. Him is a goot one to go," cried

Henri, remarking Dick's smile as he pulled up. "No hoss on de plain
can beat dis one, surement."

"Now then, Henri, lend a hand to fix this pack; we've no time to
palaver."

By this time they were joined by several of the soldiers and a few