Habakkuk McEwen entered upon his strange mission with ardor. A few seconds carried him beyond sight of the fire, and he pushed forward until fully two hundred yards distant, when he paused, and listened.

He heard nothing of the Iroquois, who could not be far away.

"Over yonder lies the trail that leads to Stroudsburg," he said to himself, "and this is the first fair start that I've had since getting into this neighborhood. Such a promise as I made ain't binding; the way Fred Godfrey has been going on, I think he's able to take care of himself, and it's about time I did the same. I'm off for Stroudsburg, and nothing short of an earthquake shall stop me this time."

And thereupon he started like a frightened deer through the dark woods, with the resolve that when the morrow's sun should rise he would be many a mile to the eastward, and far beyond the reach of Jake Golcher and his Senecas.

Meanwhile, Fred Godfrey, having done such good service for his friend, was equally alert in making the most of it. He did not forget that the sound of his rifle would direct the Senecas to the spot whence it came, and should he remain five minutes in the tree he would be at their mercy.

Consequently, the smoke had scarcely risen from the muzzle of his weapon, and the death-shriek of bloody Black Turtle was yet echoing on the air, when he came down as nimbly as a monkey and hurried from the spot.

The shot that he had fired was one of those unexpected things that startled the Senecas into temporary inaction, just enough to serve a quick-witted person like Fred Godfrey.

He was loath to leave the vicinity of the camp, but self-preservation commanded it, and he did not pause until a safe distance away.

His dread was that the Senecas would take revenge upon the whites for the death of their comrade, and the youth meant to return to a position that would enable him to interfere again, even though the risk were tenfold greater than before.

But Fred had not listened more than a couple of minutes when he was detected by an Indian, who must have followed him some distance through the woods.

"Ugh! S'render—me kill!" growled the savage, bearing down upon him with upraised tomahawk.

"Surrender, eh? That's the way I surrender!"

And, to the terror of the red man, he found the muzzle of a pistol placed against his nose.

"Ugh! no shoot—me good Injun—ugh! Good Yengese!"

And the valiant fellow, ducking his head, and dodging from side to side, like the Digger Indians of California, in the vain effort to distract the aim of his enemy, went threshing through the wood without any regard to noise or dignity.

Lieutenant Godfrey could have stopped his career without trouble, merely by pressing the trigger; but he did not do so. He was a civilized soldier.

"Go in peace," laughed Fred, putting his weapon away. "Heaven knows I do not wish to take human life!"

As the youth had now reached a point where he could feel safe from his pursuers, he proceeded to reload his rifle.

In the darkness it required care, and was a task compared to which that of breech-loading of to-day is nothing. The few beams of moonlight that had disclosed him and the Seneca to each other helped him to pour out the powder from the horn around his waist, and to adjust the quantity in the pan of his flintlock.

"If I continue this picking off of warriors, one at a time," muttered Fred, "I will be able to thin them out before morning."

He was reminded of the delicacy of his position, by hearing low whistling on his right.

"Doubtless that is the one I drove away," was his reflection. "He wants to call some of his brothers before I leave, so he can reward me as an Indian likes to reward one who shows him mercy. But, hello!"

Like a flash came the thought that the peculiar signals that had been going on for some minutes were not those of an Indian, but of his friend, Gravity Gimp.

"I do believe it is he, calling to me," said the lieutenant, as he stationed himself in the shadow of a tree, and, holding his weapon ready for use, cautiously answered the hail, which sounded clear and distinct on the still summer night.

Instantly came the reply, and then he replied in turn, so that communication was established, and whether the other was a friend or foe, it became evident that he was approaching.

The lieutenant did not feel free from fear, for he was aware of the subtlety of the foes against whom he was contending, and nothing was more natural than that they should resort to such a simple artifice to mislead him.

He therefore ceased answering the call when it came close, but held himself ready to fire and withdraw the instant he should detect the deception.

A figure was dimly seen in a small, moonlit space in front, advancing upon him in a crouching posture. Fred fastened his eyes on the shadowy outlines, and he grasped his gun with both hands.

Just then the half-bent man straightened up, and, with a relief that was delightful, Fred recognized the form of Gravity Gimp, who had been hunting and signaling so industriously for the last fifteen minutes.