Dick’s capture by the redskins resulted in making it possible for the patriot soldiers to advance till close to the Indians without being discovered, owing to the fact that the redskins were giving their attention to their prisoner and were not keeping as sharp a lookout around them as usual.

When they did discover the soldiers, the latter were already within range, and as the Indians started to flee, Dick, with rare presence of mind, threw himself flat on the ground, at the same time yelling at the top of his voice. “Fire, comrades! You won’t hit me.”

The next moment a volley rang out, and ten or twelve of the Indians fell dead or seriously wounded, while several of those who were able to run, were wounded less severely.

Then the soldiers came forward on the run, firing their pistols, and the Indians fled at the top of their speed, their yells of fear, dismay and anger commingled.

They did not try to take their prisoner with them. Those unharmed were glad to get away with their lives, and Dick’s comrades quickly freed his arms, as he explained how he came to be in the hands of the redskins.

“Your shots were the signal for us to advance,” said General Greene. “We guessed that you had gotten into trouble, and so we hastened forward as quickly as possible.”

The settlers now came forth from the fort, and greeted General Greene, his officers and the army warmly.

“We were about out of provisions,” said Mr. Holden, “and could not have held the redskins at bay much longer.”

“Wasn’t there a white man among those Indians?” asked General Greene. “I thought I saw one, a big fellow.”

“Yes,” said Holden, “that was Gabe Gurley, a renegade. He is helping the redskins plunder the homes of the patriots in this part of the country.”

“That’s the scoundrel that captured me,” put in Dick. “He left me a prisoner in an old cabin, but I managed to escape.”

“He said he captured a young fellow, who he guessed was on his way to carry news to the patriot army,” said Holden.

“Yes,” said Dick. And then he looked around, and not seeing Tom, asked Ben where his brother was.

“Tom left here the night after you did, Dick,” was the reply. “He said he would try to find you and rescue you, but that if he failed in that, he would go on and carry the news regarding the settlers’ danger to General Greene. You didn’t see him then?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since I left here.”

A sober look settled on Dick’s face, and it was evident that he was worried. Ben looked anxious, also.

“Where can Tom be, Dick?” asked Ben, after a few moments.

“I’m afraid he has fallen into the hands of the Indians, or of a gang of Tories,” was the reply.

Ben nodded. “I think likely you are right,” he agreed. “What are you going to do?”

“Hunt for him, Ben.”

“When?”

“I shall start at once.”

“All right. I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll explain matters to General Greene, and get permission to go in search of him, Ben. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

While Dick was talking to General Greene, Ben told the settlers about Tom being missing, and that he and Dick were going in search of the youth.

The settlers, who had taken a great liking to the three patriot youths, expressed sympathy, and several offered to accompany the two, but Dick, when he joined them and they offered their services, said that he and Ben would be able to find Tom, likely, without assistance, and then they said good-by and set out, going toward the north.

“I suppose we will return to Peaceful Valley, after we find Tom,” said Ben.

“Yes, Ben. General Greene said he would remain there a while, and make a campaign against the Indians, so his army will be camped there for a while.”

“We may find Tom pretty quickly,” said Ben, hopefully.

“I hope so,” said Dick. “But this is a big country, and if he has been made a prisoner by Indians or Tories, we have no knowledge of the direction the force might take.”

“True,” said Ben. “Well, we’ll do our best to find and rescue him.”

They proceeded northward, moving at a fair pace, and keeping a sharp lookout all around them, for some signs of either redskins or Tories.

They were sharp-eyed, and if there were any enemies, in view, they would see them.

When they had reached the cabin where Dick had been made a prisoner by Gabe Gurley, they paused and rested a while, and Dick told Ben the story of his fight with the wolf.

They soon set out again, making an occasional inquiry and continued onward till they had gone several miles farther toward the north. Then they paused, held a council, and decided to turn to the left and go in the direction of Ninety-Six.

“It is likely,” said Dick, “that if Tom was captured by Tories, he would be taken to Ninety-Six, and so if we go in that direction, we may succeed in learning something regarding his whereabouts. We’ll inquire at all the settlers’ houses we come to.”

“That will be the best plan,” agreed Ben.

They headed westward, now, and walked at a moderate pace, keeping a sharp lookout around them, for they realized that every step they took in this direction led them deeper into the enemy’s country. The nearer they approached Ninety-Six, the more likely they would be to encounter parties of Indians, Tories or redcoats.

An hour or so later they came to a cabin in the woods, and knocked on the door. It was opened presently, by a woman of middle age, who looked at the youths somewhat wonderingly, and said: “How d’ye do?”

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” said Dick. “I wish to know if you have seen a party of Indians or British soldiers around here, any time to-day?”

“Ye’re rebels, hain’t ye?” the woman asked, a hard look coming over her face.

“No, we’re not rebels,” said Dick, guessing that the woman was a loyalist. “Will you kindly answer my question?”

“No, I won’t,” was the reply. “I’m sure ye’re rebels, an’ ye ain’t goin’ to get any information out of me.” Then she shut the door in the faces of the youths.

Dick and Ben looked at each other in rather a disconcerted manner, and then Dick said: “Oh, well, perhaps we may secure some information at the next house we come to.”

Then they set out, and the house was soon out of sight behind them.

The youths kept onward till they came to another cabin, which stood in a little clearing in the forest, and a woman opened the door when they knocked, as at the other cabin. But this woman answered Dick’s questions without hesitation, stating that she had not seen any parties of Indians or British soldiers.

The youths then bought some provisions, and thanking the woman, went on their way. They did not find another cabin before nightfall, however, and went into camp soon after dark, on the bank of a little stream.

They built a small campfire, cooked their supper, ate heartily, and then, after sitting there, talking a while, Ben lay down and went to sleep, while Dick sat up, it being their intention to take turns at standing guard throughout the night. They were in a hostile country, and might be approached and captured by redskins, Tories or redcoats while they slept.

Dick stayed awake till midnight, and then woke Ben and lay down in his turn to get some sleep.

Ben, although he had slept several hours, was still drowsy, and presently he dropped off to sleep again--only to be awakened later on by voices, and he looked up with a start, Dick awakening and rising to a sitting posture at the same tune, and they gazed with consternation on a party of redskins, fifteen or twenty in number, who had come upon them unawares, and surrounded them while they slept. Their ugly, painted faces looked fierce and threatening in the faint light from the moon, which shone down upon the scene, through an opening in the trees.

“Ugh,” grunted one of the Indians, grinning fiendishly, and brandishing a tomahawk threateningly, “we got young white man heap plenty. No try fight, or we kill, ugh.”

The youths gazed at the redskins in silent dismay.