then led ashore, where Silvertip awaited them.
When the horse was clear of the raft, which task necessitated considerable

labor on the part of the Indians, the chief seized the grapevine, that was now
plainly in sight, and severed it with one blow of his tomahawk. The raft

dashed forward with a lurch and drifted downstream.
In the clear water Joe could see the cunning trap which had caused the death

of Bill, and insured the captivity of himself and his brother. The crafty
savages had trimmed a six-inch sapling and anchored it under the water. They

weighted the heavy end, leaving the other pointing upstream. To this last had
been tied the grapevine. When the drifting raft reached the sapling, the

Indians concealed in the willows pulled hard on the improvised rope; the end
of the sapling stuck up like a hook, and the aft was caught and held. The

killing of the helmsman showed the Indians' foresight; even had the raft
drifted on downstream the brothers would have been helpless on a craft they

could not manage. After all, Joe thought, he had not been so far wrong when he
half fancied that an Indian lay behind Shawnee Rock, and he marveled at this

clever trick which had so easily effected their capture.
But he had little time to look around at the scene of action. There was a

moment only in which to study the river to learn if the unfortunate raftsman's
body had appeared. It was not to be seen. The river ran swiftly and hid all

evidence of the tragedy under its smooth surface. When the brave who had gone
back to the raft for the goods joined his companion the two hurried Joe up the

bank after the others.
Once upon level ground Joe saw before him an open forest. On the border of

this the Indians stopped long enough to bind the prisoners' wrists with thongs
of deerhide. While two of the braves performed this office, Silvertip leaned

against a tree and took no notice of the brothers. When they were thus
securely tied one of their captors addressed the chief, who at once led the

way westward through the forest. The savages followed in single file, with Joe
and Jim in the middle of the line. The last Indian tried to mount Lance; but

the thoroughbred would have none of him, and after several efforts the savage
was compelled to desist. Mose trotted reluctantly along behind the horse.

Although the chief preserved a dignified mien, his braves were disposed to be
gay. They were in high glee over their feat of capturing the palefaces, and

kept up an incessant jabbering. One Indian, who walked directly behind Joe,
continually prodded him with the stock of a rifle; and whenever Joe turned,

the brawny redskin grinned as he grunted, "Ugh!" Joe observed that this huge
savage had a broad face of rather a lighter shade of red than his companions.

Perhaps he intended those rifle-prods in friendliness, for although they
certainly amused him, he would allow no one else to touch Joe; but it would

have been more pleasing had he shown his friendship in a gentle manner. This
Indian carried Joe's pack, much to his own delight, especially as his

companions evinced an enviouscuriosity. The big fellow would not, however,
allow them to touch it.

"He's a cheerful brute," remarked Joe to Jim.
"Ugh!" grunted the big Indian, jamming Joe with his rifle-stock.

Joe took heed to the warning and spoke no more. He gave all his attention to
the course over which he was being taken. Here was his first opportunity to

learn something of Indians and their woodcraft. It occurred to him that his
captors would not have been so gay and careless had they not believed

themselves safe from pursuit, and he concluded they were leisurely conducting
him to one of the Indian towns. He watched the supple figure before him,

wondering at the quick step, light as the fall of a leaf, and tried to walk as
softly. He found, however, that where the Indian readily avoided the sticks

and brush, he was unable to move without snapping twigs. Now and then he would
look up and study the lay of the land ahead; and as he came nearer to certain

rocks and trees he scrutinized them closely, in order to remember their shape
and general appearance. He believed he was blazing out in his mind this

woodland trail, so that should fortune favor him and he contrive to escape, he
would be able to find his way back to the river. Also, he was enjoying the

wild scenery.
This forest would have appeared beautiful, even to one indifferent to such

charms, and Joe was far from that. Every moment he felt steal stronger over
him a subtle influence which he could not define. Half unconsciously he tried

to analyze it, but it baffled him. He could no more explain what fascinated
him than he could understand what caused the melancholy quiet which hung over

the glades and hollows. He had pictured a real forest so differently from
this. Here was a long lane paved with springy moss and fenced by bright-green

sassafras; there a secluded dale, dotted with pale-blue blossoms, over which
the giant cottonwoods leaned their heads, jealously guarding the delicate

flowers from the sun. Beech trees, growing close in clanny groups, spread
their straight limbs gracefully; the white birches gleamed like silver

wherever a stray sunbeam stole through the foliage, and the oaks, monarchs of
the forest, rose over all, dark, rugged, and kingly.

Joe soon understood why the party traveled through such open forest. The
chief, seeming hardly to deviate from his direct course, kept clear of broken

ground, matted thickets and tangled windfalls. Joe got a glimpse of dark
ravines and heard the music of tumbling waters; he saw gray cliffs grown over

with vines, and full of holes and crevices; steep ridges, covered with dense
patches of briar and hazel, rising in the way. Yet the Shawnee always found an

easy path.
The sun went down behind the foliage in the west, and shadows appeared low in

the glens; then the trees faded into an indistinct mass; a purple shade
settled down over the forest, and night brought the party to a halt.

The Indians selected a sheltered spot under the lee of a knoll, at the base of
which ran a little brook. Here in this inclosed space were the remains of a

camp-fire. Evidently the Indians had halted there that same day, for the logs
still smouldered. While one brave fanned the embers, another took from a

neighboring branch a haunch of deer meat. A blaze was soon coaxed from the
dull coals, more fuel was added, and presently a cheerful fire shone on the

circle of dusky forms.
It was a picture which Joe had seen in many a boyish dream; now that he was a

part of it he did not dwell on the hopelessness of the situation, nor of the
hostile chief whose enmity he had incurred. Almost, it seemed, he was glad of

this chance to watch the Indians and listen to them. He had been kept apart
from Jim, and it appeared to Joe that their captors treated his brother with a

contempt which they did not show him. Silvertip had, no doubt, informed them
that Jim had been on his way to teach the Indians of the white man's God.

Jim sat with drooping head; his face was sad, and evidently he took the most
disheartening view of his capture. When he had eaten the slice of venison

given him he lay down with his back to the fire.
Silvertip, in these surroundings, showed his real character. He had appeared

friendly in the settlement; but now he was the relentlesssavage, a son of the
wilds, free as an eagle. His dignity as a chief kept him aloof from his

braves. He had taken no notice of the prisoners since the capture. He remained
silent, steadilyregarding the fire with his somber eyes. At length, glancing

at the big Indian, he motioned toward the prisoners and with a single word
stretched himself on the leaves.

Joe noted the same changelessness of expression in the other dark faces as he
had seen in Silvertip's. It struck him forcibly. When they spoke in their

soft, guttural tones, or burst into a low, not unmusicallaughter, or sat
gazing stolidly into the fire, their faces seemed always the same,

inscrutable, like the depths of the forest now hidden in night. One thing Joe
felt rather than saw--these savages were fierce and untamable. He was sorry

for Jim, because, as he believed, it would be as easy to teach the panther
gentleness toward his prey as to instill into one of these wild creatures a

belief in Christ.
The braves manifested keen pleasure in anticipation as to what they would get

out of the pack, which the Indian now opened. Time and again the big brave
placed his broad hand on the shoulder of a comrade Indian and pushed him

backward.
Finally the pack was opened. It contained a few articles of wearing apparel, a

pair of boots, and a pipe and pouch of tobacco. The big Indian kept the latter
articles, grunting with satisfaction, and threw the boots and clothes to the

others. Immediately there was a scramble. One brave, after a struggle with
another, got possession of both boots. He at once slipped off his moccasins

and drew on the white man's foot-coverings. He strutted around in them a few
moments, but his proud manner soon changed to disgust.

Cowhide had none of the soft, yielding qualities of buckskin, and hurt the
Indian's feet. Sitting down, he pulled one off, not without difficulty, for

the boots were wet; but he could not remove the other. He hesitated a moment,
being aware of the subdued merriment of his comrades, and then held up his

foot to the nearest one. This chanced to be the big Indian, who evidently had
a keen sense of humor. Taking hold of the boot with both hands, he dragged the

luckless brave entirely around the camp-fire. The fun, however, was not to be
all one-sided. The big Indian gave a more strenuous pull, and the boot came

off suddenly. Unprepared for this, he lost his balance and fell down the bank
almost into the creek. He held on to the boot, nevertheless, and getting up,

threw it into the fire.
The braves quieted down after that, and soon lapsed into slumber, leaving the