"I don't see why it isn't."

"It would be as good as twenty men to us in these breastworks. Couldn't you take a couple of my men, and go after it?"

"Of course I could, and I will."

"You will do us a great service, for I may have to fight four times my own force."

Two men were selected to go with me to the island, and taking them upon the wagon, I drove back to the Castle. Mr. Gracewood readily gave me permission to bring off the gun, but he wanted to know how I expected to bring it over.

"In the boat," I replied.

"Do you mean my barge?"

"Yes, sir."

"How much do you think it weighs?" he asked, with a smile.

"I don't know—perhaps a hundred weight," I answered, comparing it with a barrel of flour, which was my standard.

"Not less than six hundred," said he. "The barge will not carry it with three of you besides; and if it would, you could not load it."

"I can get it over, I know," I replied, confidently, and rather pleased to have a difficult problem to solve.

"Very well. The ammunition is in the blue box; and that will be a good load for the barge."

"I will agree to get them both over here," I replied; and, jumping upon the wagon, I drove down to the landing.

While I was securing the horses, the two soldiers put the barge into the water. I was thinking all the time of the problem of transporting the gun and ammunition. I was quite sure that I could do the job, and I had my plan ready. I took a couple of axes from the shanty at the landing, and we embarked. One of the soldiers rowed the boat.

"What are you going to do with the axes, Phil?" asked the soldier who was seated in the bow.

"I thought we might want them, and so I brought them along," I replied, not caring to discuss my plan with him.

"How big is the gun we are to bring?"

"Mr. Gracewood says it weighs about six hundred."

"Do you expect to bring a gun weighing six hundred in this little boat?"

"We'll see," I replied.

"We are on a fool's errand."

"You wait and see."

"I think you are smart, Phil, after what you did last night; but you might as well try to drink up the Missouri as to bring that gun in this boat," persisted the soldier.

"Let Phil alone," said Morgan, the oarsman, who seemed to have more confidence in my ability than his companion.

We landed at the south end of Paradise Island, because there were no bluffs to interfere with our operations. Securing the boat, we walked up the hill to the house. I was still thinking of the plan by which the gun was to be transported to the main shore, when I was startled by the crack of a rifle from the direction of the house.



CHAPTER XVIII.

IN WHICH PHIL FIGHTS THE INDIANS ON THE ISLAND.

"Get behind the trees!" I called to my companions, as I promptly adopted the tactics of Kit Cruncher; for in fighting Indians discretion is eminently the better part of valor.

"Was any one hit?" asked Morgan, the man nearest to me, as he dodged behind a cotton-wood tree.

"I am not," I replied.

"Nor I," added Plunkett, the other soldier; "but that ball came within a quarter of an inch of my right ear."

"Who fired that shot?" asked Morgan. "I didn't see anybody."

"The Indians are here," I replied.

"Then we had better take ourselves off as quick as possible," suggested Plunkett.

"Not without the gun," I continued. "The three Indians you fired at on the river last night have come over here. You don't mean to run away from three Indians—do you?"

"No; but I don't like the situation," said Plunkett.

The cotton-wood trees were large enough to furnish us ample shelter, and we waited a reasonable time, with our guns pointed, for the savages to show themselves; but they were no more disposed to do so than we were. It looked like a slow and lazy fight, and I was afraid the main body of the redskins would attack the lieutenant before we could reach him with the gun.

"What shall we do? We don't want to stay here all day," said Morgan.

"It is just as dangerous to go back as it is to go forward," I replied.

"Forward it is, then," added Morgan. "I don't want to be shot in the back, if I am to be shot at all."

As my companion did not suggest a plan of operations, unless the proposition of Plunkett to run away may be regarded as such, I endeavored to solve the problem myself. The formation of the island, like many others in the Mississippi and Missouri, was peculiar. Its surface was a gradual slope from the point where we had landed to the up-river end, which was a bluff of considerable height. On the most elevated portion grew the tallest of the trees, which gradually diminished in size, till at the lower end they were mere bushes. The current of the river beating against the upper end washed away the earth, and carried the soil to the lower end, leaving an annual deposit there.

From the high ground the water had gullied for its passage a channel to the lower end. As the descent was considerable, it was dry except during heavy rains. This gully in the part of the island where we had halted was about four feet deep. Farther up and lower down it was less than this. In leading the way up to Mr. Gracewood's house, I had followed this channel, and when we stopped, I had taken shelter behind a tree on the side of it, whose roots reached into it. The Indians were some distance from the gully, which led, in a sinuous course, within a few rods of the house.

"I am going to do something," said I, when I had arranged a plan to take advantage of the shelter the gully would afford me. "I will follow this channel up till I can got a good shot at the Indians. When I fire, you do the same."

"Don't be rash, Phil," said Morgan, who perhaps thought he ought to perform the perilous work of the expedition; but really one place was just as safe as the other.

"I will take care of myself," I replied. "Twenty rods farther up the gully I shall be in position to see behind the trees where the Indians are. I shall bring down one of them then."

"All right, Phil; but the Indians will see you when you leap into the gully," added Morgan.

"I shall run the risk of that. If you will do the same, we can make a sure thing of it."

"I will, for one. I won't have a boy like you get ahead of me; but I thought you wanted us to stay here."

"One of you stay behind the tree, and the other jump into the ditch."

"All right. I'll jump in," said Morgan.

"I will go up the gully; you go down. I will go without noise; you will make a noise, so as to make the Indians think we have both gone down towards the place where we landed. Do you understand me?"

"Like a book."

"And, Plunkett, you must keep both eyes wide open. If an Indian shows his head, shoot him."

"I'll do that."

"But don't show your own head."

"I won't do that."

I leaped into the gully as soon as I had completed my preparations. One of the Indians fired instantly. Morgan promptly followed me, and without drawing the fire of the Indians. I crept carefully up the gully, while my companion took the opposite direction, making plenty of noise. He had gone but a short distance before the discharge of Plunkett's musket assured me the ruse had been successful so far. The savages, thinking we were escaping to the water, had left their trees, and shown themselves to our sentinel.

I hastened on my winding way with all practicable speed, careful not to betray my presence. Every step brought me nearer to the Indians, and, as I crept along, I occasionally stole a glance over the brink of the gully; but as yet I could not see the foe. I continued on my way, not daring to step on a stick or a stone, lest the noise should reveal my presence, until I had reached my objective point. A cautious glance then assured me that I was abreast of the savages. I was exactly at their right hand, and not ten rods from them. I could distinctly see them, with their rifles elevated in readiness to fire, and glancing with one eye, from behind the tree, at the position of Plunkett.

The three positions occupied respectively by Plunkett, the savages, and myself, were at the three angles of an isosceles triangle, the two equal sides of which were about twenty rods, while the other and shortest side was ten rods, the latter being between the Indians and myself. They were straining their eyes to take advantage of any movement where Plunkett stood.

I placed my ammunition so that I could reload with the greatest possible haste after I had fired, and then prepared to make the shot upon which our fate in a great measure depended. Indeed, it was necessary to do something to end my own suspense and anxiety, for my nerves were so strained up that I thought they would crack. This holding of one's breath, and moving in absolute silence on penalty of death for failure, is a terrible trial to a boy, whatever it may be to a man inured to peril and hardship.

Having completed my preparations, and considered where and how I should retreat in case of failure, I took careful aim at the Indian nearest to me, and fired. The savage uttered a howl, and clapped his hand upon the back of his head. I had wounded him, but evidently had not disabled him. I loaded my rifle again, regarding my first shot as an unfortunate one. I could hear the enemy talking earnestly together, and I realized that they were not satisfied with the situation. The report of a musket below assured me the Indians had changed their position. Another shot from our side told me that Morgan was improving his opportunities.

These bullets from the front, although they appeared not to have done any harm, compelled the savages to resume their first position, which again opened them to my fire. I aimed a second time, and fired at the mark as before. The discharge was followed by a fearful howl, and the savage raised his hand to his face. He was not killed, but by this time he was badly demoralized. He turned his head to see where the ball had come from. His face was covered with blood.

I stooped to load my rifle again. While doing so, I could hear the savages chattering violently. They had evidently discovered the insecurity of their position, and felt that, if they staid there long enough, they would certainly be shot. I did not deem it prudent to remain where I was any longer, lest the enemy should take it into their heads to charge upon the gully. I retreated a few rods towards the house. While I was doing so, the reports of the two muskets of the soldiers assured me the Indians were making a movement. I raised my head, and saw that they were running with all speed towards the north side of the island, where they had landed the preceding day.

Morgan and Plunkett had come out of their hiding-places, and were already in hot pursuit. I followed their example, and being nearer the enemy than they, I fired. This time an Indian dropped: but his fall did not delay the flight of the others. I paused to load, and presently heard the shots of both the soldiers. They also halted to load again, and I ran ahead of them; but the savages were more fleet of foot than we, and gaining rapidly upon us, reached their boat without further loss or damage.



"We are lucky," said I, as we gave up the chase, and gazed at the dugout, half way across the river.

"That's so. Was any one hit?" added Morgan.

"No; and of all the shots we have fired, we have brought down but one Indian."

"If we had been as near as you were, Phil, we should have dropped one every time," replied Plunkett. "However, I knocked over that one that fell."

"You did!" I exclaimed.

"Why, yes; didn't you see him fall?"

"I did; but he fell the instant I fired," I replied.

"You are a little fast, Phil. You haven't hit anything to-day," said Plunkett.

"I hit every time I fired."

"You! Nonsense!"

"I fired the first shot after the Indians started to run, and this one dropped before you had fired at all," I persisted, indignant that Plunkett, who had wished to run away in the beginning should claim to have done all the execution that had been accomplished.

"Keep cool, Phil," laughed Plunkett. "That redskin dropped when I fired."

"We will settle that matter another time," I answered, leading the way towards the house.

We passed the Indian who had fallen. He was not dead, and I saw Plunkett fixing his bayonet, evidently with the intention of finishing the work I had begun. I protested, and so did Morgan, against his course. The savage reclined on one side, resting upon his elbow. He had torn away his blanket, so that we could see where the ball had struck him in the hip.

"You didn't fire that ball, Plunkett," said Morgan. "You couldn't have hit him there from the place where you fired."

"What's the reason I couldn't?" demanded the braggart.

"Because the Indian was running ahead of you, and you couldn't have hit him on the side of the hip. Phil was up by the house, and his shot did it. Half his nose is gone, and he has a wound on the back of the head."

"He turned round when I fired; but I will finish him," said Plunkett, approaching the Indian with his bayonet pointed at him.

"No!" I shouted, earnestly. "It is murder."

The Indian, who had watched us with savage dignity, apparently regardless of the pain his three wounds must have given him, suddenly grasped his tomahawk, and raised himself as far as his injured hip would permit. He looked ugly and defiant, and Plunkett paused.



CHAPTER XIX.

IN WHICH PHIL CONDUCTS THE RAFT TO THE LANDING, AND MORGAN FIRES THE BIG GUN.

"Let him alone, Plunkett," said Morgan.

"He will throw his tomahawk at you," I added.

"I can shoot him," replied the coward, retreating backwards with more haste than dignity.

"If you do, I'll report you to Lieutenant Jackson," continued Morgan.

"I don't believe in leaving your work to be done over again," growled Plunkett. "What's to prevent this Indian from killing some of us, when he gets a chance?"

"We are not Indians, and we don't kill the wounded," replied Morgan. "Come along; we are fooling away our time."

We went up to Mr. Gracewood's house, and entered it. The Indians had been there before us. In the middle of the floor was a pile of goods, which they had intended to carry down to the boat. They had done no injury to the building, though they would doubtless have burned it if we had not disturbed them. The gun for which we had come was in the rear chamber, limbered up and ready for use. The recluse of the island had brought it as a weapon of defence. It could be discharged from any door or window; and, loaded with canister and fired into an invading horde of savages, it would produce fearful havoc among them.

I attached a rope to the carriage, and we rolled it out of the house. When I realized how heavy it was, my confidence in my ability to convey it to the main shore was a little shaken. However, it was down hill all the way to the point where we had landed, and we had no difficulty in moving it so far; but we had to return a second time for the ammunition.

"Here we are," said Plunkett, "and here we are likely to be, unless we go over without the gun. It won't swim over there."

"Of course it won't," I replied, impatiently; "but we are going to take it over there. Now we must make a raft."

"A raft!" exclaimed the croaker. "The lieutenant ought to have sent a whole section over here."

"That's the idea! We can make a raft in less than an hour. There is no end of logs here," added Morgan, glancing along the shore, where there were plenty of sticks of timber, of all sorts and sizes.

Plunkett growled; but he assisted Morgan, who went to work in earnest. While they were rolling the logs to a convenient position in the water, I went back to the house. Mr. Gracewood had a wheelbarrow. I broke up some large boxes, and wheeled the boards, with a supply of nails, down to the river. By this time the soldiers had placed half a dozen logs, from fifteen to twenty feet long, in the water, side by side. They had been obliged to use the axes a little, but generally the sticks had been deprived of their branches by being tossed about on the shore. The boards I had brought were nailed across them, so as to hold them together.

Above this foundation shorter and dryer sticks, from the woods, were placed crosswise, and while my companions were laying them down I returned to the house with the wheelbarrow. I could take only a small portion of the ammunition at a load, and I repeated the journey several times before the raft was finished. I did not bring the whole of it, but I thought I had enough to kill all the Indians within twenty miles of the Castle.

The raft was built up a foot above the water, so as to furnish the necessary floating power, and the parts were securely bound together with board battens. We rolled the gun upon the structure, and were delighted to find that everything was a perfect success. We placed logs on each side of the wheels, and lashed the carriage down to the raft. Loading the ammunition, which I had put into several boxes in order to trim the raft, we pushed it off from the shore.

"Now we are all ready," said Morgan, as he leaped into the boat, with the rope attached to the raft in his hand.

"What is to be done with that Indian up by the house?" asked Plunkett.

"Nothing," replied Morgan.

"Don't you think it is more humane to kill him than to let him starve to death?"

"He won't starve to death," I added. "He will crawl up to Mr. Gracewood's house, where there is enough to feed an army for a short time."

"Don't you suppose the two Indians that escaped are watching us now?" asked Morgan.

"Very likely they are."

"And as soon as we are gone, they will come back."

"We can't help it," I answered.

"They will burn the house, and destroy that Chickering's grand piano."

"It would break Mr. Gracewood's heart to have that destroyed, for it was his best friend for years; but I don't see that we can do anything to preserve it. We might save some of his property."

"I think we ought to do so," added Morgan. "It will not delay us fifteen minutes."

We decided to do so; and, fastening the rope attached to the raft to a tree, we hastened up to the house. Loading the wheelbarrow with the most valuable articles, and carrying as many as we could in our hands, we returned to the raft. Putting the goods into the boat, we were again ready for a start. The barge was so crowded with Mr. Gracewood's effects that the two soldiers decided to go on the raft, leaving me to row the boat, which was not a difficult task, down the river. The two men were provided with poles to assist in steering it, and getting it off from the shore.

"Push her off!" I shouted, when all was ready.

I pulled at the oars, and my companions on the raft tugged at the poles. We cleared the shore, and in a few minutes the action of the current gave us a good headway.

"We are all right. We could go down to St. Louis on this craft," said Morgan.

"We could, but I think we won't," I replied. "We must be sure and not let the current carry us beyond Fish River. If we do, we can never get back again."

Fortunately the current set towards the landing-place, which was our destination, and I pulled well towards the north shore.

"Indians!" shouted Plunkett, after we had gone a short distance.

"Where are they?" I asked, unable to see them.

"Just coming out from the north shore, above the island," replied Morgan.

Standing up in the barge, so that I could see over the gun on the raft, I discovered the dugout. It contained the two Indians who had escaped from the island. They were paddling towards us with all their might; and the soldiers picked up their muskets. I could not believe that the savages intended to attack us upon the open river, after the repeated defeats they had sustained; but I was convinced of my error when they opened fire upon us. However, they did not come near enough to render their own or our fire effectual.

"Phil, didn't I see some round shot among the ammunition you brought down?" called Morgan to me.

"Yes; I brought down a few cannon balls. I didn't know there were any there before," I replied.

"Do you happen to know where they are now?"

"I put them on the raft."

He and Plunkett overhauled the boxes, and found the shot. Morgan intended to use the gun, which would make short work of the enemy. The dugout had followed us at a safe distance till we were half way to the landing. The Indians had evidently come to the conclusion that they were wasting their powder, and were now paddling down nearer to the raft. It was a long time before the soldiers had the gun in condition for use, for they were obliged to alter the lashings, so that they could elevate or depress it, and we were within a quarter of a mile of our destination before it was ready. Although the Indians quickened their speed, they did not fire again, and I soon discovered that they were headed to the north shore.

"Hurry up, Morgan!" I shouted. "I see what they are going to do."

"What?"

"They are headed to the shore."

"I see they are," replied he, as he rammed home the shot.

"They are going into the woods to fire at us from behind the trees when we land," I answered.

"I'll soon block that game. Stand by the lock-string, Plunkett."

The dugout was now going at a right angle with the course of the raft, and was about sixty yards from the shore.

"Pull as hard as you can, Phil, so as to keep the raft steady!" called Morgan, as he sighted along the gun.

I applied all my strength to the oars.

"Out from the shore a little more, Phil," added the gunner, as he depressed the muzzle of the piece. "Fire!" shouted he.

I stood up in the barge to note the effect of the shot. A yell of dismay rose from the Indians, and I saw that the dugout was splintered in pieces. One side of it was broken in, and the savages, leaping into the water, swam for the shore.

"I have made one good shot to-day, any how," said Morgan.

"Didn't I fire that gun?" cried Plunkett.

"Yes, sir! You are the organ-blower that played the tune," replied Morgan, taking no pains to conceal his disgust.

"Mind the raft," I interposed, finding that it was swinging off from the shore.

I used the oars vigorously to counteract this tendency; but the soldiers could not reach bottom with their poles, and were unable to help me much. The raft was heavy and the current very strong. We were within a few rods of the Fish River.

"We shall be carried down the river, if we don't look out!" I called, anxiously.

"What shall we do? We can't reach bottom with the poles," replied Morgan.

"Clear away a long rope," I added. "When the current of Fish River strikes us, we shall be carried down in spite of all we can do, if we don't get a check on her."

"Here's your rope."

"Cast off the drag-line, and make fast to it."

Morgan did as I directed, and taking the line into the boat, I carried it to the point on the Fish opposite the landing. I succeeded in catching a turn around a tree. The rope strained, and I was obliged to ease it off to prevent it from snapping; but the raft was checked.

"We are all right now," said Morgan.

"Not quite," I replied. "If we let her go again, the current will carry it down the river."

I jumped into the barge, and pulled across the river, where I had plenty of rope in the shanty. I carried a line to the raft, and having made it fast, I conveyed the two soldiers to the shore. Crossing the river, I eased off the line which was secured to the tree, while the men on the other side pulled the raft up to the landing.

"That's very well done, Phil," said Morgan, after my return.

"Any fool could have done it," added Plunkett.

"Of course they could—you could have done it," retorted Morgan.

"It is just the plan I was going to propose——"

"But didn't."

I backed the wagon into the two trenches I had dug to load the flour, and rolling the gun upon the platform, where we also placed the ammunition, we started for the line of defence.



CHAPTER XX.

IN WHICH PHIL WITNESSES THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE WITH THE INDIANS.

"Did you fire the gun, Phil?" asked Mr. Gracewood, as we halted for a moment at the Castle to inform him that his goods were at the landing.

"Yes, sir; Morgan fired one shot at the Indians in the dugout, who would not let us alone. He used a solid shot, and smashed the boat so that the redskins had to swim ashore. We left an Indian wounded in the hip on your island."

"Is he badly wounded?"

"I don't know how badly, but I don't think he will be able to get away from there very soon. He will not be likely to do any mischief at present. We brought over a boat-load of your things, but we hadn't time to bring them up here."

"I will go to the landing and attend to them."

"How is Ella, sir?"

"She is doing very well."

"Glad of it; but we must hurry on to the camp."

"I suppose you will not remain there long, Phil Farringford?"

"I shall have to come back to feed my horses before night."

"Better come back immediately. I want to talk with you, and arrange our plans for the future."

"If there is a fight going on up in the woods, I shall want to know how it is coming out."

"I can tell you that beforehand. The Indians will be defeated, utterly routed, and perhaps annihilated. That is always the case when the savages fight with the white man, unless they surprise him in the night. I hope you will not expose yourself, Phil Farringford. Ella is very much concerned about you, and afraid that some harm will befall you."

"I will return as soon as I can, sir," I replied, pleased that Ella should think of me at all, though I felt that I had earned a claim upon her regard.



I drove on, and we soon came in sight of the works of the soldiers. They had nearly completed their breastworks, which consisted merely of an embankment of logs and earth, which would shelter the men from the fire of the Indians. It extended from the river across the path, and some distance into the forest.

"You are just in time, Phil," said Lieutenant Jackson, as I stopped my horses.

"Why? Have you seen the Indians?"

"No; but our scouts have just come in, and report a large body of savages moving this way. We are all ready for them, or we shall be as soon as we have planted this gun. You were gone longer than I expected you would be."

"The gun was heavier than I thought it was, and we had to fight the Indians before we could do anything."

While Morgan and a squad of men were unloading the gun, I told the officer the adventures of the morning, and described the means by which we had transported the gun.

"Did my men behave well?" he asked.

"Morgan did, and is a first-rate fellow. Plunkett did all he was asked to do, but I would rather have another man next time I go on an expedition."

"I should have sent more men if you had not said it was a light job."

"I thought so myself."

"We might have known that those Indians were lurking somewhere in the vicinity."

"I don't think they will give us much more trouble."

"They will continue to annoy you as long as they have the power. You smashed their dugout, but they have another up the river where we went yesterday."

I had forgotten all about the other dugout, and thought it was a great pity it had not been secured or destroyed, for the neglect might cost Mr. Gracewood his house and other property on the island. The two Indians had swum ashore not three miles from the point where the dugout had been left. They knew that our party had left the island, and the rich plunder there would be too great a temptation to be resisted. I begged the lieutenant to send a couple of men with me to protect the property of my good friend.

"This gun is a great reenforcement to me, Phil, and I can spare three men—more if you need them," replied the officer.

"Three will do very well. Let Morgan be one of them," I added.

"You might take two of the men left at the clearing; for, in attacking the Indians, you will be defending the Castle, as you call it."

"They are coming," said one of the scouts, approaching the spot where the officer stood.

"How far off are they?"

"Not a mile by this time."

I drove my horses off into the woods, where they could not be injured by any flying bullets; but I was not willing to depart from the exciting scene which impended, and I hastened back to the breastwork. The lieutenant had posted his men behind their defence, and I could distinctly hear the tramp of horses' feet in the distance. The cannon had been placed at the opening in the works prepared for it. The men lay upon the ground behind the defence, with their muskets ready for use. The forest was as silent as at midnight, for the lieutenant had ordered his men not to show themselves till the order to do so was given.

I lay upon the ground, looking through a loophole. The officer in command was near me, watching his opportunity. But the savages were wary; and instead of seeing the whole band, as we had expected, a couple of mounted scouts only appeared. They discovered the formidable obstacle in their path, and halting, unslung their guns.

"I hope they don't mean to assault us alone," said Mr. Jackson.

"They seem to be examining the works," I added.

"I don't want to fire till the main body appears."

"They are going back to report."

The two Indians turned their horses, and were soon out of sight. We did not see any of the enemy again for half an hour. They came the next time in a swarm, with shouting and yelling, sounding their war-cry as though they were thoroughly in earnest, as we had no doubt they were. Without attempting to count them, I judged that they numbered two hundred. Though the greater portion of them moved in the path, they were scattered through the woods in a column longer than our breastworks. They had left their horses behind. As soon as they came in sight of the works, they broke into a run, and, increasing their savage yells, rushed forward with the evident intention of carrying our line by storm.

"Ready!" shouted Lieutenant Jackson, with a coolness and self-possession which astonished me.

The men all levelled their muskets at the approaching foe, pointing them through the loopholes, which had been left for the purpose. Their bayonets were all fixed, in readiness to repel an assault, if the first fire did not check the advance of the Indians. Morgan was sighting the twelve-pounder. On rushed the enemy, as it seemed to me, to certain destruction. I could not believe that they were aware of the presence of the soldiers, and perhaps supposed they were attacking a fort manned by half a dozen persons. None of the Indians who had come down Crooked River had been able to return to afford them any information. Lieutenant Pope's force must be in their rear, and if they had known that he was near them, they would not have come down the river.

Lieutenant Jackson permitted the savages to come within fifty yards of the works before he gave the order to fire. The cannon was pointed so as to cover the path on the bank of the river, where a dense mass of Indians was moving.

"Fire!" shouted the officer, when the decisive moment came.

Almost at the same instant every musket was discharged, and the twelve-pounder awoke the echoes of the forest at the same time. I fired with the rest. It was a yell of terror and despair which followed the volley; and, as soon as the smoke rolled away, I saw that the ground was covered with the dead and wounded. So dense was the column in front of the fort, that it was not possible for any man in it to fire without hitting an Indian, while the scattered missiles from the canister shot probably did as much execution as a dozen muskets.

The men were prepared to repel an assault with the bayonets; but no attack was made, for the Indians fled with the utmost precipitation from the deadly spot. The soldiers promptly reloaded their muskets, and the cannon was ready for another discharge.

"You can go now, Phil," said Lieutenant Jackson. "The battle is fought for the present. They will not renew it."

"Where do you suppose the rest of the soldiers are—those who went up the river yesterday?"

"Probably they have been holding back, so as not to alarm the enemy. The noise of that twelve-pounder will inform them that the work has commenced. Now, Phil, is it possible for these Indians to escape by any other route than this by this river?"

"Not with their horses. They can cross over to the brook, and follow that, which will lead them to their village, eight miles from here."

"Very well; I think we shall be able to capture a good portion of them as soon as the other force closes upon them."

"I will go over to the island now, though I should like to stay and see how the thing is coming out."

"Of course there can be no doubt of the result. I think we have already convinced them that it is not safe to shoot down white men."

I glanced at the ground in front of the works, where many of the savages were still writhing in the agony of their wounds. It was a sickening sight, and I turned away from it. The soldiers were standing up, and gazing at the bloody field. I walked down the road towards the place where I had left the horses.

"Hyer, boy!" shouted a voice on the other side of the river, which I at once recognized as that of Kit Cruncher, though I could not understand how he happened to be here.

"Hallo, Kit! Is that you?" I responded.

"'Tain't nobody else. Hev you nary a boat over thar?"

"I have not."

"Who's that, Phil?" asked Mr. Jackson, calling to me from the fort.

"Kit Cruncher; the man who guided the other force."

"Tell the leftenant I want to speak to him, boy. I hev a message from t'other officer."

I went back to the fort, and delivered the message of Kit. The soldiers had some rubber army boats, which they carried with them to use in crossing streams. A couple of men were sent to prepare one of them, which was launched, and I paddled it across the river.

"I heerd the firin', boy, and the battle has begun," said Kit, as he seated himself in the bottom of the boat.

"We fired only one volley at them, and that was all they would stop to receive."

"You hev a big gun here."

"Yes, Mr. Gracewood's twelve-pounder. It knocks down everything before it."

"I see it does. I was on t'other side of the Fish when the job was done, and I see it all. I did my part, too; for I shot one Indian I know."

"But where is the other party of soldiers?" I asked.

"They ain't more'n three miles from here; and I cal'late, when they heerd that big gun, they begun to hurry up."

We landed, and I conducted Kit to Mr. Jackson, to whom the hunter delivered a written order.



CHAPTER XXI.

IN WHICH PHIL SEES THE CONCLUSION OF THE WAR.

"We expected this fight earlier in the day," said Lieutenant Jackson, as Kit and I appeared before him.

"The Injuns stopped to fish on the way, and to feed their stock," replied Kit, as he delivered the order of Lieutenant Pope. "The cap'n sent me down to see if everything was all right on this side."

"And he orders me to send part of my force up the brook on our right."

"That's Kit's Brook," I added.

"I shall want a guide, then."

"I'm your man," interposed Kit. "And now's the right time to start, for the fight will begin on t'other side in a few minutes."

A sergeant and ten men were detailed to move up Kit's Brook, in order to prevent the Indians from escaping in that direction. Kit led the party towards the stream, but they had hardly disappeared in the forest before we heard the rattle of musketry in front of us. Lieutenant Pope's force had come up with the Indians, and had attacked them. We listened to the warlike sounds which came to us, and that was all we could do. I was too much excited to leave the scene of conflict until the battle had been decided.

The din of the strife gradually became more distinct as the combatants approached, the Indians being driven before the soldiers. By this time the sergeant and his party, who had gone up the brook with Kit, were taking the enemy on the flank. Presently we saw a few of the Indians rushing wildly through the woods, and occasionally a riderless horse came into view. We realized that the savages had been routed, scattered, and dispersed. We saw them swimming across the river, and skulking into the woods. Lieutenant Jackson ordered his men to form in front of the breastwork, for by this time the firing had ceased. Leading them forward, they captured a few prisoners, who were sent to the rear. As the two columns approached each other, the retreat of about twenty of the savages was cut off, and they were surrounded. It appeared that nearly fifty prisoners had been taken by both parties, and not less than twenty horses, while as many more were running loose in the forest.

"How are you, Jackson?" said Lieutenant Pope, as the two officers met.

"Very well, thank you. How is it with you?"

"I am all right. We have done our work thoroughly."

"We have, indeed."

"After it became nothing but butchery, I ordered my men to cease firing," added Lieutenant Pope. "The enemy were badly cut up when we came upon them. Didn't I hear a heavy gun here?"

"Yes, we have a twelve-pounder on our battery. We fired it but once, loaded with canister;" and Mr. Jackson proceeded to explain how he had obtained the gun.

"What shall we do with these prisoners?" continued Lieutenant Pope. "They will be a nuisance to us, and I don't wish to feed them a great while."

"We had better take them down to the clearing."

"There is feed enough for the horses down on Bear River," said I.

"We will send them down there," added Lieutenant Pope. "I have no idea that these Indians will assemble again."

"No: they are completely scattered, and they will make their way back to their village."

"But they may cause some trouble."

"Very true; and, Phil, you must hurry to the island. If you have boats enough, you may take half a dozen men."

"We have three boats," I replied.

I went for my team, and Lieutenant Pope ordered the men who had come with him to remain at the breastwork, while those under Mr. Jackson conducted the prisoners and the horses to the clearing. The senior officer rode down with me, and on the way I told him all that had occurred since I left him the night before. He informed me that his force had followed the band of Indians, three or four miles in their rear, till they heard the firing in front, when they had pressed forward with all speed, and intercepted the enemy, as they retreated, not more than a mile from the breastwork.

"I don't think you will have any more trouble with the Indians," said he, in conclusion. "They have been severely punished for the murder they committed. If I can find the man who shot your father, I shall make an example of him."

"I think he was the first Indian that fell," I replied. "Kit Cruncher dropped a redskin as soon as Matt Rockwood was hit. I don't think they will need any more punishing."

"I hope not."

When we reached the Castle, we found that two of the guard had gone over to the island to protect Mr. Gracewood's property. Dinner was ready, and as we were now in no haste, we sat down with the reunited family. Ella was up, and had been improving rapidly. The news of the total defeat of the Indians seemed to quiet her fears in regard to the future.

"She does not wish to go upon Paradise Island again," said her father.

"She need not go there," I added; "though your house is much better than the Castle."

"I have been thinking the matter over for some time, Phil. I have concluded that we had better move my house over to the clearing, if you will let us locate on your land."

"On my land?"

"I believe in squatter sovereignty, Phil Farringford, and I regard this as your farm. The house is put up with screws, and can be readily taken down."

"What will you do with your piano, sir?" I inquired.

"I must get some passing steamer to transport that. The box in which it was brought up from St. Louis is still on the island."

"Our men shall assist you in moving the house," said Lieutenant Pope.

"It can be done in a couple of days, with force enough," added Mr. Gracewood.

"We will go to work upon it to-morrow."

After dinner, Morgan and I went over to the island, where we found the two soldiers domiciled in the house. The wounded Indian was there with them. He had crawled into the front room before their arrival, and I was pleased to learn that they had fed him, and done what they could for his wounds. They had put a big plaster on his nose, and bound up the back of his head. An assistant surgeon belonged to the detachment, but he was attending the wounded soldiers and Indians above the breastwork. None of the troops had been killed; one was severely and two slightly wounded.

Probably the presence of the two soldiers on the island had prevented the Indians from returning. Leaving Morgan at the house, I returned to the clearing. On my arrival I found that Lieutenant Pope, after serving out rations to his prisoners, which they had greedily devoured, had assembled them in the field, for the purpose of having a "big talk" with them. Two or three of them spoke English enough to act as interpreters.

"Why have you done this?" asked Mr. Pope. "Why did you come down here, steal the horses, and then murder the owner of them?"

The spokesman charged us with stealing the Indian horses and killing one of their chiefs.

"How's that, Phil?" asked the officer.

"They stole our horses, and when we found them, we took two other horses belonging to the thieves," I replied. "But we returned them when they came for them, the next day. They demanded more horses, besides corn, meat, and whiskey, which we refused to give them, and they threatened us. Then about a dozen Indians came on horseback; but we had taken up the bridge, so that they could not cross over the brook. When old Matt came down, they shot him dead, without a word of talk. Then Kit Cruncher fired, and brought down the foremost Indian. The rest of them ran away. We defended ourselves in the block-house, and they did not dare to come near us, for Kit was sure of his man every time he fired. Then some more of them came down to the island, and when we drove them away from the house, they carried off Miss Ella. That's the whole story. Mr. Gracewood was here all the time, and he will tell you the same thing."

Lieutenant Pope repeated my statement to the Indians, and insisted that it was the whole truth.

"These people have been your friends," said he. "They have often given you meat and corn when you were hungry, and have lived in peace with you for many years. Our great father the president will not permit his children in the forest to be murdered. If you kill one white man, or steal his property, you shall be punished as you have been to-day. We bought your lands in fair bargain, and we give you every year money, blankets, food, and all you need. If the white man wrongs you, he shall be punished."

"No!" exclaimed the Indian, whose experience, perhaps, did not verify this statement.

"If you complain of him, and we can find him, he shall be punished," repeated the officer.

He proceeded to show that the Indians had been the aggressors in the present difficulty; that they had murdered one of the settlers without provocation. He enlarged upon the terrible consequences which would follow if the Indians persisted in waging war upon the white man. If the lieutenant had proved that he was powerful on the war-path, he also demonstrated that he was equally potent in an argument, and the savages were as completely overwhelmed by his logic as by his arms.

"Will you have peace or war?" demanded he, sternly.

"We make peace," replied the spokesman.

"Then bring your chiefs to me, and we will smoke the pipe of peace. We wish you well, and will be friends if you are willing; if not, we will go to your country, and destroy you with fire and sword. You may go; take your horses, and all that belongs to you."

The savages seemed to be astonished at this unexpected decree. Their spirit was broken by the heavy losses they had sustained. Their horses, some of which were fine animals, were driven up, and a detachment of the troops conducted them to the fort in the forest, where they were sent on their way. Probably those who had escaped were already on their way to the north. As it was no longer necessary to maintain the camp in the forest, it was removed to the clearing. A portion of the breastwork near the river was taken away to open the road, the dead Indians were buried, and the war was practically ended. From what I had heard of these Indians, I was confident that we should have no further trouble, though Lieutenant Pope intended to visit the Indian village, and have a talk with the chiefs before he returned to the fort.

The next morning our three boats conveyed twelve soldiers to the island to commence the removal of Mr. Gracewood's house. The wounded Indian was placed on a bed under a tree, and the soldiers commenced their task. After they had gone to work with knives and screw-drivers to take down the house, I returned to the clearing for Lieutenant Jackson, who was to superintend the operation.



CHAPTER XXII.

IN WHICH PHIL UNDERTAKES A HEAVY JOB.

"How big is this house, Phil?" asked Lieutenant Jackson, as I rowed him up to Paradise Island.

"It is thirty feet long and fifteen wide."

"I haven't heard anything said about the manner of transporting it," added the officer.

"We must raft it down. We have taken up all the ropes we have. Mr. Gracewood told me how to handle the grand piano."

"The grand piano," laughed Mr. Jackson. "That's a pretty plaything to have away back here in the woods."

"Mr. Gracewood sets his life by that piano. He used to smoke and play upon it by the hour together. He is very fond of music."

"I should think he must be, to bring a grand piano out here. How heavy is it?"

"It weighs about eight hundred pounds. Mr. Gracewood told me to have it put in the box, and leave it here till some steamer can be hired to bring it down."

"Tho rain and dampness will spoil it."

"He told me to wrap it up in the oil-cloth that belongs with it; but, if you are willing, Lieutenant Jackson, we will astonish him by taking it down with us."

"I think it would astonish me as much as him to see it done."

"We can do it."

"I hear that you are an engineer, Phil," added my passenger. "Morgan says you engineered the job of transporting the gun."

"The grand piano is not more than two or three hundred pounds heavier than the twelve-pounder."

"That is adding a third, and the gun was on wheels."

"No matter for that; we had but three to do that, and now we have a dozen."

"How will you do it, Phil?"

I explained my plan, and Mr. Jackson thought it was practicable.

"I suppose Mr. Gracewood and his family intend to remain at the clearing after we have moved the house," continued my companion in the barge.

"I don't know. I don't believe his wife and daughter will be content to stay a great while in this lonely place. They may live here during the summer; but in winter we don't see anybody or anything for months."

"What do you do in winter?"

"I have been studying for several years."

"I thought you talked very well for a boy brought up in the woods."

"I don't have anything to do for six months in the year but take care of the horses, and do the housework. I read and study about twelve hours a day in winter. I took up Latin and French last season."

"Indeed! You will make a learned man if you keep on. Have you no desire to see more of the world?"

"Sometimes I have. I don't think I shall stay here many years longer."

"I shouldn't think you would. Why do you study Latin and French?"

"Only because I like them. It is a very great pleasure to me to puzzle out the sentences. Mr. Gracewood is a great scholar, and has plenty of books on the island. I believe I have read them all, except the dictionaries. He had given me a lot of books, which he sent to St. Louis for."

"I should think you would want to know something about your family—your father and mother," added the lieutenant, to whom Mr. Gracewood had related the substance of my history.

"I do, sometimes; but I am almost sure I should learn that one or both of them were lost in the steamer."

"Perhaps not. Mr. Gracewood thinks your foster-father did very wrong in not causing some inquiries to be made for your parents."

"I think so myself; but I can excuse him when I consider how much he did for me, and the reason why he kept still," I replied, as I ran the barge upon the shore at the lower end of the island.

"Have you any of the clothing, or other articles, found upon you?"

"I don't know of any."

"Almost every little child has a necklace, a ring, or some other ornament upon it, especially when travelling."

"Matt Rockwood never said anything to me about such matters. He has a chest at the Castle, which he always kept locked, and I don't know what there is in it."

"Didn't you open it after he was killed?"

"No; the key was buried with him, and I did not exactly like to break it open yet. Besides, I have been so driven about since we buried him that I haven't had much time to think about it."

"I would open it, if I were you."

"I shall," I replied, as we walked up the slope towards the house.

"Perhaps there is something valuable in it."

"I know there is money in it, for we have sold a great deal of wood, and he always put the gold into that chest."

"You may be a rich man yet, Phil."

"I don't know that the money belongs to me. I suppose Matt had friends and relatives somewhere, though I don't know where they are."

"You have done as much as Matt, of late years, to earn this money, and it would be a hard case to have it taken from you by his relations."

"I think it would. Matt did most of the chopping, and I did all the hauling. But I meant to be honest, and the money shall go wherever it belongs."



"Have you any idea how much there is?"

"Not the least; but I don't suppose there is a great deal," I replied, as we reached the house.

"If I can help you, Phil, call upon me at any time. I shall be at the fort above for a year or two, probably."

"Thank you, Mr. Jackson. You have been very kind to me. I shall always remember you."

The soldiers had removed most of the boards on the sides of the house, and were now taking off the roof. The lieutenant ordered some of his men to bring up the piano box, which was in a rude shanty used as a storehouse for supplies. All the force that could get hold of the piano then placed it sidewise upon four chairs, and we took off the legs. The instrument was then wrapped in the oil-cloth, and placed in the box, where it could not be injured by a falling board or timber. Raising the case upon three rollers, which I had prepared for the purpose, we easily slid it out of the house on a track of boards.

"Now, Mr. Jackson, if you will let Morgan help me, we will move this box down to the river," said I, when it was ready.

"But you want half a dozen men," added he.

"No, sir. Let all the rest of the men take down the house. We can do this alone. It is a long job, and we must have it moving at once."

"Just as you say, Phil," laughed the officer.

The distance to the river was about eighty rods. The forest was open enough, the greater part of the way, to permit the passage of the box, and only near the river should we be obliged to cut away the young trees. We demolished the old shanty, and taking half a dozen of the boards, laid down a track towards the river. The ground was nearly level for a short distance, and we used levers to propel the box forward. As fast as one roller ran out in the rear, we placed it forward, and thus managed to keep both ends of the box up all the time.

"Why couldn't we move the house without taking it to pieces, Phil?" said the lieutenant, laughing, as he watched the operation.

"We could, sir, if the trees were not in the way. It would be more work to cut a track through the woods wide enough for the house than to take it to pieces and put it together."

"Do you really think you could move the house, without taking it to pieces, if the trees were not in the way?"

"I know I could."

"You have a good deal of confidence in yourself."

"I was brought up in the woods, where we have to do our own thinking."

"How would you take it down the river?"

"There are hundreds of cotton-wood sticks, from forty to sixty feet long, on the shore. We could make a raft of them, that would keep the building right side up."

"But, after your raft got started, how could you stop it, and haul it in at the mouth of Fish River? The current here is not less than four miles an hour."

"That would be the greatest difficulty about the job. I should have some sweeps on the raft, and a dozen men could crowd it over against the north shore, where we could send a couple of ropes on shore, and check it by catching a turn around the trees."

"Very likely you would do it, Phil; but it's lucky we haven't the job on our hands."

"I wish we had, for I should enjoy the fun, if I were boss of the job."

We continued to roll the box on its way down to the river, carrying the boards forward as we passed over them, until we came to the downward slope, when the heavy weight was inclined to travel faster than was safe for it. But I had a rope on the case, for I had already provided for the emergency. Making it fast to the rear end of the box, I passed it round a tree, and while Morgan eased it down the slope, I shifted the rollers. When the whole length of the line had been run out, we changed it to another tree.

As the descent increased, we found that the rope canted the box, so that it was in danger of running off the board track. Morgan cut down a tree about thirty foot high, and trimmed off its branches. We placed the stick across the track behind the box, and above two trees. Passing the rope around this timber, we had our purchase in the right place. When we shifted the cross stick down the hill, the box was held by a couple of props. In this manner we descended the slope. It was dinner time then, and we halted in our triumphant progress to refresh ourselves with boiled bacon and johnny-cake.

After dinner we resumed our labor. Taking the axes, we cleared a road through the young wood near the river. We had occasionally been obliged to use the shovels to level off the ground, and the axes to remove a stump, or a small tree. Our course had been rather devious also, in order to obtain the smoothest path. A couple of hours more enabled us to reach the river. We placed the box near a convenient place to embark it. We then prepared a dozen logs for the foundation of the great raft we were to make of the lumber, and returned to the house.

I found the soldiers growling at the idea of lugging all the boards and timbers down to the river.

"Don't do it," said I to Mr. Jackson.

"They must do it, or leave them here."

"No, sir, I think not. There is not a board nor a timber here that is more than twelve feet long. We can make three or four piles of the boards, and roll them down to the river, as we did the grand piano."

"Bully for you, Phil!" said a lazy soldier, in a low tone.

"You may try it, Phil," replied Mr. Jackson.

Morgan and I made a pile of boards eight feet long, three feet wide, and three feet high. We were careful to "break joints" in laying up the pile, and it was a compact mass when finished. We started it for the river, on the rollers.



CHAPTER XXIII.

IN WHICH PHIL'S RECONSTRUCTION PLAN IS FULLY SET FORTH.

In moving the pile of lumber to the river, we followed the path chosen for the piano box, and as the road was all ready, there was no delay. Morgan superintended its progress, having three men to assist him. Another pile was immediately made at the site of the house, and started on its way with four men to handle it. A third and a fourth were piled up, and by the time the last was ready, the first had arrived at its destination. Slowly as the masses of lumber were moved, the transportation was effected much sooner, and certainly with less labor, than the building could have been carried down by the soldiers.

As soon as the last pile had been started, the lieutenant and myself went down to the water. We had placed the dozen logs, intended for the foundation of the raft, in the right place, where there was water enough to float the structure after it was built, and the heavy piano had been placed near it. When the second pile of lumber arrived, the officer ordered the men who had come with it to prepare the timbers. They were placed about a foot apart, and secured by nailing boards across them. By the time the foundation was completed, the rest of the lumber was on the spot, and all our force were ready for the work.

The frame of the house was laid upon the logs, and then the boards were placed upon them, alternate layers crossing each other, so as to bind the whole firmly together. The raft, when completed, was twenty-four feet long, and fifteen wide. The most difficult task was yet to be performed—the loading of the grand piano. We found it necessary to remove the raft to a place where the bank was more shelving, so that the shore side of the structure would rest on the ground, because the weight of the piano on one side would cant it over so that we could not work.

For skids we laid down a couple of smooth, water-soaked sticks of timber, sliding the piano box upon them down to the raft. As soon as the heavy body was on the raft, the side which floated settled down before the box had reached the middle of the platform. The raft was gradually pried off the shore with levers, and as it came to a level, the box was moved farther upon it, till it had been placed in the centre. Then the structure floated in all its parts, and I was glad to see that its equilibrium had been correctly calculated. The piano was not a heavy load for the raft, for it floated well out of water, and had buoyancy enough to sustain the weight of a dozen men.

"What shall we do with that wounded Indian, Phil?" asked Mr. Jackson, when we had completed the loading of the box. "He will starve to death in time, if we leave him here."

"We must take him with us, of course," I replied. "There are a great many things at the house to bring down."

The lieutenant sent his men back, and we followed them. The wheelbarrow was loaded with small articles, and each took all he could carry. They were sent down to the raft, and directed to return. While they were absent, we talked with the wounded Indian, who had been observing all our movements with apparent interest. Though he was in a high fever, and must have suffered severely from his injuries, he exhibited no signs of pain in our presence. I told him that we would take good care of him till he was well, and that we must convey him to the clearing, where the surgeon of the troops would attend to him.

"No hang me—kill me?" he said, with a smile.

"No; that is not the way the Christians serve their enemies," added Mr. Jackson. "We feed them, and cure them if they are sick or wounded."

"Why did you attack us, and murder one of us?" I asked. "We have been friends."

"Indian come back and say white man kill chief. Must kill white man then."

It was the ancient philosophy of the Indians, that one injury must be repaid by another; but he entirely ignored the fact that the savages had been the aggressors. I told him of the battle of the day before; that his people had been routed with severe loss, and that they had fled to their reservation.

"Smoke pipe now; no fight again; peace always," said he.

"I hope so," I added.

"Me no fight. Me white man friend. Hunt for white man, work for white man, fight for white man; good friend always."

I think he was grateful for the favor extended to him. When the soldiers came back from the raft, four of them were directed to convey the camp bedstead on which the Indian lay to the river, and the rest carried down the remainder of Mr. Gracewood's goods. We walked down to the lower end of the island with the bearers of the bedstead. It was placed on the raft, and the other articles were stowed so as to preserve the balance of the structure.

"We are ready for a start," said Morgan. "But we ought to have a steamboat to tow the thing down."

"I think we have men enough to handle it," I replied. "It is almost night, and we must hurry up, though it will not take us long after we get started."

Two of our boats were bateau, and the other was Mr. Gracewood's barge. Two men were placed in each, and the others upon the raft. I sat in the stern of the barge to tend the drag-rope. Mr. Jackson was in one of the bateaux. The lines were cast off, and the men, with their setting-poles, pushed the raft from the shore. The current soon acted upon it, carrying it over towards the north side of the river. We followed the course taken by the raft on which we had transported the twelve-pounder; and, profiting by the experience gained in that enterprise, we guided our huge structure safely to the landing at the mouth of Fish River. We landed our check-lines in season this time, and everything worked entirely to our satisfaction. It was nearly dark now, and we moored the raft to the shore for the night. The bed of the wounded Indian was removed to the shanty, and the surgeon sent for.

The lieutenant and myself went to the Castle to report progress, while the soldiers sought their camp. Mr. Gracewood staid in the house all the time. He had hardly been out during the day. He was so rejoiced at the reunion of his little family that he was not willing to leave his loved ones even for a moment.

"I hope you left the piano where it will be safe on the island, Phil Farringford," said Mr. Gracewood, when I had told him we had brought over the house.

"No, sir; we did not."

"Did not? You know I love that instrument, and I hope, before the summer is past, to hear Ella play upon it."

"We brought it with us, sir," I replied.

"Impossible!" exclaimed he.

"It is on the raft down at the landing."

"Phil is quite an engineer, and is entitled to all the credit of its removal," added the lieutenant, who explained the means by which the piano had been moved to the river, and floated to the landing.

"I am very glad, indeed, that you have brought it, Phil. We shall be happy here this summer now," said Mr. Gracewood.

"Then you intend to stay here this summer."

"We have concluded to remain as long as Mrs. Gracewood and Ella can be contented."

"I am afraid that will not be long," I added, glancing at Ella, who was seated on Matt's chest.

"I am sure I shall be very happy here among such good friends," she replied; and I could not help realizing how delighted I should be while she was at the clearing.

"I will help you carry on your farm, Phil," continued Mr. Gracewood.

"We shall do well, I know."

I felt that paradise had been transported from the island to the clearing, while, as we ate our supper, Ella told what a beautiful place it was. It was so much pleasanter than the boundless prairies which covered the greater portion of the country. It seemed as if civilization had been transplanted to my field and forest as I looked upon Mrs. Gracewood and her daughter. But I was sad when I thought that the time must come, sooner or later, when they would leave me, and I should be more desolate and lonely than ever before.

I slept in the barn again that night; but I hoped Mr. Gracewood's house would be ready for the accommodation of his family by the next evening, and that we should hear the melodious tones of the grand piano by the following day, which would be Sunday. Ella was rapidly recovering from the fatigues of her forced journey with the Indians; and I pictured to myself the pleasure it would afford me to walk with her through the forest, and sail with her on the river. When I went to sleep, I dreamed that I went a fishing with her, and that a big gray trout pulled her into the water, from which, of course, I had the satisfaction of rescuing her.

The next morning Lieutenant Pope directed all his men to assist in the erection of the house. We landed the big box, loaded it upon the wagon, and hauled it up to the site which had been chosen for the new home of the Gracewoods, not a hundred feet from the Castle. While a portion of the troops carted the lumber, the others prepared the foundation of the house. A series of posts were set in the ground, and sawed off on a level about a foot above the sod, so as to make the lower floor dry and comfortable. On those were laid the sills, and before noon the building was up and half covered. All the boards and timbers were numbered, and so many men made quick work of it. In the middle of the afternoon the last board had been screwed on, the sides of the house had been banked and sodded, and the structure was ready to receive the furniture.

Mr. Gracewood had used a ladder to reach the attic where he slept; but Mr. Jackson thought he ought to have stairs for his wife and daughter. I had a decided taste for carpenter's work, and promised to build them as soon as possible. However, Mrs. Gracewood and Ella thought they should like the ladder better, as it could be drawn up after them, which would add to their safety in case the Indians should be troublesome again.

The grand piano was taken from the box, and put in the front room. While its owner was tuning it, I put up a couple of rude box bedsteads in the attic, and filled them with clean hay. The cooking-stove was put up in the rear apartment, and the whole building looked as though it had never been disturbed, for everything had been placed as it was on the island. I had the pleasure of conducting Ella to her new home, where we passed a very pleasant evening.



CHAPTER XXIV.

IN WHICH PHIL AND HIS FRIENDS EXAMINE THE CONTENTS OF THE CHEST.

Lieutenants Pope and Jackson were of the pleasant party in the reconstructed house. Both of them were good singers, and I experienced a new sensation. Ella was able to sit up all day now, and she and her mother sang. To the accompaniment of the grand piano, the party sang what they called old and familiar tunes. I had never heard anything which could be called singing before, and I was more delighted than I can express. The instrument, highly as I had appreciated it before, seemed to have a double power and a double melody.

The tunes were Old Hundred, Peterboro', Hamburg, and others like them, which have since become familiar to me. They raised my soul from earth to heaven, and inspired me with new love and new hope. I had read some of the hymns they sang; but their musical interpretation gave them a purer and loftier sentiment than their words could convey. Ella sang a little song alone; and, as I listened to her sweet voice, I could hardly restrain my tears, the melody was so new and strange, and withal so heavenly. What would earth be if men and women could not sing!

It was a gloomy moment to me when the party separated. It was like coming down from heaven to earth when the music ceased, and I heard only the commonplace sounds which were familiar to me. I left the house with the two officers; but it was still early in the evening, and I invited Mr. Jackson, to whom I had become much attached, to go into the Castle with me. He had taken an interest in me and in my affairs, and I wanted to talk with him about the great world I had never seen. After the raptures of the evening, I could not help shuddering as I thought of the time when the Gracewoods would return to their old home in St. Louis. The thought of a separation was intolerable, and I resolved to abandon Field and Forest when they decided to go.

"Is that the chest of which you spoke, Phil?" said Mr. Jackson, as we entered the Castle, where a bright fire of pitch-wood was burning.

"Yes, sir; it has not been opened since Matt Rockwood was buried," I replied.

"Why don't you open it?" added the officer. "It may afford you some information in regard to yourself."

"I will do it now, if you please, for I don't like to open it alone."

"Very well; but are you sure there is no key to the chest?"

"I only know that Matt carried the key in his pocket, and I suppose it was buried with him."

"No, it wan't," said Kit Cruncher, walking in at the open door. "Not if you mean the key to that box."

"That is what we were speaking of, Kit," I replied. "I thought you had gone up to your cabin."

"I've been, and got back. 'Pears like them Injuns is comin' down agin. They've stole all my bacon."

"Probably they did that on their retreat," suggested the lieutenant. "They are short of food, and the wounded one told me they were going down to the buffalo country, after they had revenged themselves for the death of the chief."

"I cal'late some on 'em is in the woods above hyer now."

"Very likely."

"It mought be, but I hain't seen none. I want some supper, boy."

"You shall have it, Kit," I replied. "We have plenty of bacon, and Mrs. Gracewood made some bread to-day, which will be a treat to you."

I went to the store-room, and cut off a large slice of bacon, and put it in the pan on the fire. The white bread, which had been baked in the stove, was a new thing at the Castle, and I put the loaf on the table.

"What was you talkin' about when I kim in?" asked Kit, while he was waiting for his supper.

"We were talking about opening this chest," replied Mr. Jackson. "Perhaps it contains something which will help Phil to find who his parents were."

"I know it do," added Kit. "Leastwise, there used to be, for I've seen the traps myself. Matt Rockwood didn't want to hev me say nothin' to the boy about 'em, for the old man sort o' doted on that boy, and was afeard o' losin' on him."

"I understood you to say that the key of the chest was not buried with the owner," said the lieutenant.

"No; it wan't. I took it off on him myself. Hyer it is," replied the hunter, handing the key to the officer. "I don't reckon you'll stop hyer a great while now, boy."

"I shall stay through the summer, at any rate."

"I see the house from the island has been fotched over hyer. I cal'late Mr. Greasewood's folks mean to stop hyer a spell, from that."

"They will spend the summer here; and when they go, I think I shall go too," I answered.

"I reckon, boy, from what I know on't, that you belong to a good family. If you do, your bringin' up won't be no disgrace to you. I don't reckon there's many boys in the towns that know any more'n you do."

"What makes you think he belongs to a good family, Kit?" asked Mr. Jackson.

"From the traps he had on when Matt picked him up. There was sunthin' else, too. What I was go'n to say, boy, was this: I'm gittin' old, and can't run through the woods as I used to. Twenty mile a day rather wears on me. I don't reckon I shall do much more trappin', and when you go, boy, I'll buy your place at a fair price."

"You needn't buy it, Kit. You can take it. I wish you would come down and live with me now."

"Do you wish so, boy?"

"I do, with all my heart. I shouldn't have been alive now if you hadn't stood up against the Indians when they came."

"Don't say nothin', boy; I'll come right off. But when you leave, I'll buy the place, for Matt owned it just as much as any man could own a piece of ground. I cal'late he took out the gov'ment papers for it."

"You shall have it all, Kit, and be welcome to it, so far as I am concerned," I persisted.

"Had Matt any heirs?"

"He had a brother," replied Kit. "I don't reckon he'll come up hyer."

"Your supper is ready, Kit," I added, putting the frying-pan on a block upon the table, according to our usual custom, though I did not do it while the ladies were my guests.

"You kin open the box, boy," said Kit, as he sat down at the table, and helped himself out of the pan.

Mr. Jackson unlocked the chest, and raised the lid. It contained a very great variety of articles, including a tolerably good suit of clothes, which I had never seen upon the person of the old man. I took these out, and discovered a little dress, musty and mildewed. It was made of fine material, and was elaborately ornamented. There was a complete suit, and also a heavy plaid shawl.

"You was tied up in that blanket when Matt picked you up," said Kit. "Look in the till, in the end of the box."

I opened the till, and found there a locket, attached to a string of beads. There was also a pair of coral bracelets, which the lieutenant said had been used to loop up the sleeves of the child's dress at the shoulders. On them were the initials P. F., which were certainly the first letters of my present name; but I concluded that Matt had made the name to suit the initials. Mr. Jackson opened the locket, and found it contained a miniature of a lady. He passed it to me, and I gazed at it with a thrill of emotion? Was it my mother who looked out upon me from the porcelain? Did she perish in the terrible steamboat calamity from which I had been so providentially saved? I carried the locket to the fire, where I could examine more minutely the features of the person. It was the portrait of a lady not more than twenty-five years of age. If she was not handsome, there was something inexpressibly attractive to me in the gentle look of love and tenderness which she seemed to bestow upon me.

"Do you think this is my mother, Mr. Jackson?" I asked.

"Of course I know nothing about it, but I should suppose it was. Whose portrait but a mother's would a little child be likely to wear?"

"It mought be, and it mought not be, boy," added Kit.

"It must be!" I exclaimed, so tenderly impressed by the picture that I was not willing to believe anything else; and I felt that my instinct was guiding me aright.



"Let us see what else there is in the chest," said the lieutenant. "We may find something that will give us further light on the subject."

I placed the miniature on the table, and returned to the chest. Mr. Jackson took from it an old time-stained newspaper. He threw it upon the floor, as a matter of no consequence; but I picked it up, for I remembered what I had heard Matt say about a newspaper. But it contained only a brief paragraph, and alluded to another and fuller account of the calamity contained in a previous issue.

There was nothing else in the chest that related to me, but I felt that I had enough. Mr. Jackson said that, if I ever went to St. Louis, I could find a file of the newspaper of which we had a single copy, and could find the number containing the names of the saved and the lost at the burning of the Farringford. The portrait would enable me to identify my mother, if she were still living, and also to establish my own identity.

"Here is Matt Rockwood's money," said the lieutenant, as he took from the bottom of the chest several shot-bags.

"I have some money to add to it," I answered, taking from the store-room the amount I had received for wood since the death of my foster-father.

"The old man did a good business here, I should say," added Mr. Jackson, as he held up the bags in order to estimate their weight.

"We had better count the gold."

Counting the money seemed to have a greater fascination to my friend the officer than to me. He placed the coins upon the table in piles of one hundred dollars each. When he had nearly finished, I counted eight of them. There was not enough, even with the silver, to make another, and the whole amount was eight hundred and ninety-one dollars.

"What will you do with this money, Phil?" asked Mr. Jackson.

"I don't know; keep it, I suppose."

"It is a pity to let it lie idle here. If you invest it, you will have double this amount when you are of age."

"I can only invest it in a mud bank up here," I replied. "But we have nearly a hundred cords of wood at the landing, which ought to bring about four hundred dollars more, as it sells this year. A great many steamers come up here now, and I think we shall sell it all this season."

"Then you will have twelve or thirteen hundred dollars. If Mr. Gracewood goes to St. Louis this fall, I advise you to let him invest it for you."

"I will, sir. Is there anything else in the chest?"

"Here are papers relating to Matt Rockwood. There are names upon them, and if you desire, you can obtain some information in regard to your foster-father."

I did not care to look at the papers; and returning the money and other articles to the chest, I locked it, and put the key in my pocket. Mr. Jackson went to his tent, and Kit and I slept together in the Castle. The picture of my mother, as I insisted upon believing it was, seemed to be before me; and I gazed upon it in imagination till sleep shut it out from my view.



CHAPTER XXV.

IN WHICH PHIL ATTENDS TO THE AFFAIRS OF THE FARM.

The Sabbath sun rose bright and beautiful, and shed its hallowed light upon field and forest. Sunday had always been a day of rest at the clearing since the coming of Mr. Gracewood. Matt Rockwood and I used to spend the day at the island when the weather would permit us to go there. The recluse, on these occasions, invariably read several chapters of the Bible to us, explaining the meaning of the verses as he proceeded, when necessary. After this he read a sermon, or a portion of some religious book.

This had been our Sunday routine for the last three years; and Mr. Gracewood told Matt and me that his religious experience dated no farther back than this period. He declared that he was really worried about me, a child of eight, who had received no religious training. As my education had fallen to him, his conscience troubled him because he confined his instruction to secular branches. He did not feel competent to instruct me in sacred things; but he had devoted himself to a study of the Bible for my sake, that he might be able to teach me. His stock of religious books was very small, but he had sent to St. Louis for a new supply.

The study of the Bible, which he pursued with maps, commentary, and Bible dictionary, soon became very interesting to him. It awakened in his mind a new spirit, and kindled emotions which before had been foreign to him. He was an earnest teacher, while he was an inquiring student. The course of study which he had undertaken for my sake had been even a greater blessing to himself than to me, though I am sure I profited by his instructions. After we had studied together for a year, a prayer was added to our Sunday exercises. Mr. Gracewood told us that he prayed morning and evening, and begged us to do the same. Sometimes Kit Cruncher came down and joined our little class.

On these occasions, which were always very pleasant to me, the grand piano gave forth its deepest and most solemn tones. Mr. Gracewood played only sacred music on the Sabbath; and he performed the pieces with so much interest and feeling, that we were always moved by them. He never sang, declaring that his voice was not adapted to singing.

With this knowledge of Mr. Gracewood's religious views and feelings, I was not surprised when Ella told me, after breakfast, that her father would have a service at his house in the forenoon and in the afternoon. All the soldiers were invited, and all of them came. The familiar hymn, "The morning light is breaking," was sung first, and was followed by a prayer, and the reading of a chapter from the New Testament. The beautiful hymn,—

"When all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise,"—

was then sung. Many of the soldiers joined, and I was almost carried away by the strange effect, at once so melodious and so inspiring. The words of the hymn had a peculiar fitness, for the occasion, after we had been spared from the vengeance of the savages. Mr. Gracewood read each verse before it was sung, so as to recall the words to the audience. After the singing, he read a sermon appropriate to the circumstances of the family. At the end of it he spoke of Matt Rockwood, and paid a very pleasant tribute to his memory.

In the afternoon we attended another service. That Sunday was a holy day to me, and the singing had opened a new avenue of inspiration to me. In the evening Ella told me about her Sunday school in St. Louis, and I listened to her description with intense interest. I wished that I could attend one, hear the children sing, and receive the instructions of kind teachers. I was astonished when she told me that many young people did not go to the Sunday school, though all were invited to do so. I could not understand how any were willing to forego such a blessed privilege.

Early on Monday morning the troops marched for the Indian country at the north of us. I loaned them the wagon and horses to convey their baggage, and Kit Cruncher went as guide. I saw the column disappear in the forest. By this time Ella was able to walk about on the farm, and I derived great pleasure from the excursions I made with her about the clearing. I pulled up Little Fish River with her in the barge, and showed her where the battle with the Indians had occurred. We landed, examined the breastwork, and visited the mound which marked the burial-place of the savages who had fallen in the affray.

Later in the week I rowed up to Fish Rapids, and showed her how to catch a trout. She tried her hand, and soon hooked a two-pounder, which would have realized my dream about her, if I had not taken the line in my own hands. We caught half a dozen, and returned to the clearing. This kind of life was delightful to my fair young companion, and, with her, it was equally so to me. She seemed to have inherited something of her father's fondness for the sports of the wilderness and the prairie.



On Saturday the troops arrived from their march to the Indian region. Lieutenant Pope had met some of the principal chiefs, had listened to their grievances,—for they always have some,—and had promised to redress them. They had smoked the pipe of peace together, and the "big Indians" had assured him that they would keep their word. After the severe lesson which had been administered, they were, doubtless, glad enough to make peace on these easy terms. During the rest of my stay at the Castle, they gave us no trouble. Though they came down occasionally to the landing, they were always peaceable and friendly. We took care of the wounded Indian at the shanty till he was able to return to his people, and he left us filled with gratitude. Three months after, he brought us in his canoe, down Crooked River, three antelopes, which he had shot in the region above us, for much of the best game had abandoned the vicinity of our settlement.

The soldiers remained a week at the landing, waiting for a steamer to convey them up to the fort. At the end of that time they departed. I had several long talks with Lieutenant Jackson, who gave me much good advice in regard to the future course he thought I ought to pursue; and when he left I felt that I had parted with a true friend. To the steamer which conveyed the soldiers up the river, I sold twenty cords of wood, and added eighty dollars to the gold in the chest.

Mrs. Gracewood insisted that Kit and myself should take our meals at the house, instead of keeping up a separate mess. Her husband had purchased a supply of table ware of the steamer which had just left, and we found ourselves quite civilized. The old hunter was rather embarrassed and awkward, for he had always been in the habit of eating his bacon out of the pan in which it had been cooked; but he soon accustomed himself to the new order of things, though it was impossible for him to be very graceful at the table, or anywhere else.

As the season advanced we ploughed and planted the field. With Mr. Gracewood, who insisted upon doing his full share of the labor, and Kit to help me, the task was not so hard as it had been. We planted a large piece of ground with corn, potatoes, and vegetables, and by the middle of June, everything was up, and looked finely. The rich soil and the southern slope were favorable to our crops, and we had abundant promises of a rich harvest.