“Fill up the hole agin!  Posin shan’t lay on top of any of your friends!” exclaimed Sneak, likewise leaping out of the grave.

“It matters not—­but do as you please,” said Boone, turning away and marking the distressed yelping of the hounds, which indicated, from some unusual cause, that they did not enjoy the chase as much as was their wont.

“Split me if he shan’t be buried somewhere else, if I have to dig the hole myself,” said Sneak, filling up the grave.

“I’ll stick by you, Sneak,” said Dan.

“Dan and me ’ll finish the job; all the rest of you may go off,” said Sneak, releasing the rest of the party from any further participation in the depositing of the remains of Posin in the earth.

“Glenn does not yet understand Ringwood and Jowler,” said Boone, still listening to the chase.

“I never heard the dogs bark that way before until to-day,” said Joe; “only that night when we killed the buffalo.”

“Something besides the buffalo caused them to do it then,” replied Boone.

“Yes, indeed—­they must have known the fire was coming—­but the fire can’t come now.”

“Sneak,” said Boone, “when you are done here, come to Mr. Glenn’s house.”

“I will, as soon as I go to my muskrat trap out at the lake and get my rifle.”

“Be in a hurry,” said Boone; and turning towards the chase, he uttered a “Ya-ho!” and instantly the hounds were hushed.

“Dod!” exclaimed Sneak, staring a moment at Boone, while his large eyes seemed to increase in size, and then rolling up his sleeves, he delved away with extraordinary dispatch.

In a very short space of time, Ringwood and Jowler rushed from the thicket, and leaping up against the breast of their old master, evinced a positive happiness in once more beholding him.  They were soon followed by Glenn, who dashed briskly through the thicket to see who it was that caused his hounds to abandon him so unceremoniously.  No sooner did he discover his aged friend than he ran forward and grasped his hand.

“I thought not of you, and yet I could think of no one else who might thus entice my noble hounds away.  Return with me, and we will have the fox in a few minutes—­he is now nearly exhausted,” said Glenn.

“Molest him not,” said Boone.  “Did you not observe how reluctantly the hounds chased him?”

“I did; what was the cause of it?” asked Glenn.

“The breeze is tainted with the scent of Indians!” whispered Boone.

“Again thou art my preserver!” said Glenn, in a low tone.

“I came to give you intelligence that the Osages would probably be upon you in a few days,” said Boone; “but I did not think they were really in the neighbourhood until I heard your unerring hounds.  Col.  Cooper, of my settlement, made an excursion southward some ten days ago to explore a region he had never visited; but observing a large war-party at a distance, coming hitherward, he retreated precipitately, and reached home this morning.  Excessive fatigue and illness prevented him from accompanying me over the river; and what is worse, nearly every man in our settlement is at present more than a hundred miles up the river, trapping beaver.  If we are attacked to-night, or even within a day or two, we have nothing to depend upon but our own force to defend ourselves.”