run where there was soft dirt, he stopped again and looked intently at
the earth and then hurried back.

"It's a big band. At least forty Injuns in it an' some captives, an'
the devil an' Tom Walker. It's a mess which they ain't no mistake."

"I don't see why they want to be bothered with women," the boy remarked.

"Hostiges!" Solomon exclaimed. "Makes 'em feel safer. Grab 'em when
they kin. If overtook by a stouter force they're in shape fer a
dicker. The chief stands up an' sings like a bird--'bout the moon an'
the stars an' the brooks an' the rivers an' the wrongs o' the red man,
but it wouldn't be wuth the song o' a barn swaller less he can show ye
that the wimmen are all right. If they've been treated proper, it's
the same as proved. Ye let 'em out o' the bear trap which it has often
happened. But you hear to me, when they go off this way it's to kill
an' grab an' hustle back with the booty. They won't stop at
butcherin'!"

"I'm afraid my folks are in danger," said the boy as he changed color.

"Er mebbe Peter Boneses'--'cordin' to the way they go. We got to cut
eround 'em an' plow straight through the bush an' over Cobble Hill an'
swim the big creek an' we'll beat 'em easy."

It was a curious, long, loose stride, the knees never quite
straightened, with which the scout made his way through the forest. It
covered ground so swiftly that the boy had, now and then, to break into
a dog-trot in order to keep along with the old woodsman. They kept
their pace up the steep side of Cobble Hill and down its far slope and