the trail, they began to fear for the result.  Just before entering the stream, they passed through a cluster of bushes that skirted the river’s bank; and Ella, the only prisoner whose hands were unbound, by a quick and sly movement succeeded in detaching a portion of her dress, which she there left as a sign to those who might follow, that she was still alive, and so encourage them to proceed, in case they were about to falter and turn back.

The separation being now speedily effected, the two parties were quickly lost to each other—­Girty and his band going down the bed of the stream some two hundred yards before touching the bank; and the others, headed by Wild-cat, going up about half that distance.

Leaving each to their journey, let us now return to the band already in pursuit.

[Footnote 5:  Some historians have stated that the Indians here alluded to were Mingoes, and not Senecas; and that they were a remnant of the celebrated Logan’s tribe.]

[Footnote 6:  Sometimes Big Knife—­first applied to the Virginians by the Indians.]

[Footnote 7:  Great Chief—­a term sometimes given to Girty by the Indians.]

CHAPTER IX.

THE PURSUERS.

About a hundred yards from where Boone and his young companions set forth, the dog, which was running along before them, paused, and with his nose to the ground, set up a fierce bark.  When arrived at the spot, the party halted, and perceived the body of an Indian, slightly covered with earth, leaves, and a few dry bushes.  Hastily throwing off the covering from his head, they discovered hideous features, wildly distorted by the last throe of death, and bloody from a wound in his forehead made by a ball.  His scalp had been taken off also, by those who buried him—­from fear, probably, that he would be found by enemies, and this secured as a trophy—­a matter of disgrace which the savage, under all circumstances, ever seeks to avoid, both for himself and friends.

“Well done, Master Reynolds!” observed Boone, musingly, spurning the body with his foot, turning away, and resuming his journey:  “You’re a brave young man; and I’ll bet my life to a bar-skin, did your best under the sarcumstances; and ef it’s possible, we’ll do somewhat for you in return.”

“Well, ef he arn’t a brave chap—­that thar same Algernon Reynolds—­then jest put it down as how Isaac Younker don’t know nothing ’bout faces,” returned the individual in question, in reply to Boone.  “I never seed a man with his fore’ed and eye as would run from danger when a friend war by wanting his sarvice.”

“Ay, he is indeed a clever youth!” rejoined Boone.

“Well, Colonel, he’s all that,” again returned Isaac; “and I’ll al’ays look ‘pon’t in the light o’ a sarvice, that you jest placed him in my hands, when he war wounded; for to do sech as him a kindness, al’ays carries along its own reward.  And Ella—­my poor, sweet cousin, as war raised up in good sarcumstances, and lost her all—­she too I reckon feels kind o’ grateful to you, Colonel, besides.”