This was as we had hoped it might be; but when Dick's satisfaction
would have set itself in words, the old hunter made a sudden sign for
silence and quickly flung himself full length to lay his ear to the
ground. Whereat we all began likewise to listen, but I, for one, heard
nothing till Yeates said: "A hoss; a-taking the back track like old Jehu
the son of Nimshi was a-giving him the whip and spur," and then we all
marked the distant drumming of hoofbeats.

The old borderer sprang afoot, kicked the fire into the stream, and
caught up his rifle. "Let's be a-moving," he said. "We must make out to
stop that there hoss-galloper at the ford and find out what-all he's a
rip-snorting that-away for."

The road crossing of the stream was but a little way above our breakfast
camp; and we were out of the thicket in time to see the horseman, a
negro clinging with locked arms to the neck of his mount, come tearing
down to the ford. At sight of us, or else because he would not take the
water at full speed, the horse reared, pawed the air, and fell clumsily,
carrying his skilless rider with him.

We picked the black up and soused him in the stream till he found his
tongue; and the first wagging of that useful member gave us news to fire
the blood in our veins--in Jennifer's and mine, at any rate.

"Yah!" he screamed, choking out the muddy creek water that had well-nigh
strangled him. "Yah! red debbil Injins kill ebberybody and tote off
Mistis Marg'y and dat Jeanne 'ooman! Dat's what dey done!"