in the cover. The surrounding hills kept off the wind, and it was
warm beneath the sheltering scrub.

But Charles sat up with his hands clasped round his knees, his eyes
intently fixed upon the Indian village. Beside him were a few of
his chosen comrades amongst the Rangers--men older than the hardy
youths who had organized the band--settlers like himself, who had
suffered losses like his own, and in whose hearts there burned a
steady fire of vengeful hate that could only be quenched in blood.

To them crept one of the guides who knew the district and the town
of Kittanning. With him were his son and another hardy lad. He
looked at Charles and made a sign. The next moment some six or
eight men were silently creeping through the sleeping soldiers,
unnoticed even by the sharp eyes of the Colonel, who was stationed
at some little distance.

Like human snakes these men wriggled themselves down the tortuous
path, keeping always under cover of the bushes; and even when the
open ground below was reached, they slipped so silently along
beneath the cover of the hedges that not an eye saw them, not even
the sharp ears of the Indians heard their insidious approach.

"Which is the house of Captain Jacobs?" asked Charles in a whisper
of the guide.

"It lies yonder," he answered, "in the centre of the village. It is
the strongest building in the place, and has loopholes from which a
hot fire can be poured out upon an approaching foe. The Indians
here have great stores of gunpowder and arms--given them by the