where they knew the supposed murderer had his abode. They could easily
overcome him, so they believed, and carry off the beautiful girl. But
it had been a difficult journey. They had lost their way, and
floundered about in valleys and swamps. Fear still possessed the
hearts of more than half their number, and time and time again they
were on the point of turning back. But as Sam and his followers
watched from the darkness of the woods, the slashers were in better
spirits. They were to attack at midnight, and carry off the girl.
They discussed their plans for some time, and then curled up near the
fire for a short sleep ere beginning the march.

The lurking Indians waited patiently until silence reigned around the
fire. Then like unleashed hounds they swept forward, each with a
musket in one hand and a hunting-axe in the other. With blood-curdling
yells they leaped into the midst of the prostrate men, and as the
slashers sprang to their feet, amazed and stricken with fear, they went
down before the blows of their assailants like grain before the
reapers. Only a few managed to escape by darting aside and losing
themselves in the blackness of the forest. The others lay still where
they had fallen, with their conquerors standing over them. The Indians
had accomplished their task, so with grunts of satisfaction they
stripped the slashers of their powder-horns, hunting-knives, muskets,
and all the provisions they could find. Loaded with these, they sped
back to their former place of waiting, where they cast their booty upon
the ground. Here they squatted and watched the unconscious men near
the fire.

For some time the Indians remained in this position, and when they
began to think that their blows were heavier than they had intended,
the slashers showed signs of life. First one and then another lifted