called to improvise a raft. On this the sufferers were placed, and three
or four men detailed to shove it before them. In consideration of his
youth, Will was urged to get upon the raft, but he declined, saying that
he was not wounded, and that if the stream got too deep for him to wade,
he could swim. This was more than some of the men could do, and they,
too, had to be assisted over the deep places.

Thus wore the long and weary hours away, and though the men, who knew
how hard a trip it was, often asked, "How goes it, Billy?" he uttered no
word of complaint.

But half a day's wading, without rest or food, gradually weighted his
heels, and little by little he lagged behind his companions. The moon
came out and silvered tree and river, but the silent, plodding band had
no eyes for the glory of the landscape.

Will had fallen behind some twenty rods, but in a moment fatigue was
forgotten, the blood jumped in his veins, for just ahead of him the
moonlight fell upon the feathered head-dress of an Indian chief, who was
peering over the bank. Motionless, he watched the head, shoulders, and
body of the brave come into view. The Indian supposed the entire party
ahead, and Will made no move until the savage bent his bow.

Then he realized, with a thumping heart, that death must come to one of
his comrades or the Indian.

Even in direst necessity it is a fearful thing to deliberately take a
human life, but Will had no time for hesitation. There was a shot, and
the Indian rolled down the bank into the river.