covers, since they find we can reach them across the river."

"The shot is no great matter, Jasper, no great matter. Ask any
of the 60th, and they can tell you what Killdeer can do, and has
done, and that, too, when the bullets were flying about our heads
like hailstones. No, no! this is no great matter, and the unthoughtful
vagabond drew it down on himself."

"Is that a dog, or a deer, swimming towards this shore?" Pathfinder
started, for sure enough an object was crossing the stream, above
the rift, towards which, however, it was gradually setting by the
force of the current. A second look satisfied both the observers
that it was a man, and an Indian, though so concealed as at first
to render it doubtful. Some stratagem was apprehended, and the
closest attention was given to the movements of the stranger.

"He is pushing something before him as he swims, and his head
resembles a drifting bush," said Jasper.

"'Tis Indian devilry, boy; but Christian honesty shall circumvent
their arts."

As the man slowly approached, the observers began to doubt the
accuracy of their first impressions, and it was only when two-thirds
of the stream were passed that the truth was really known.

"The Big Sarpent, as I live!" exclaimed Pathfinder, looking at his
companion, and laughing until the tears came into his eyes with
pure delight at the success of the artifice. "He has tied bushes
to his head, so as to hide it, put the horn on top, lashed the