“I never saw such a good pair of legs as you have, sir, in all my life,” said Lance, on this day, as they trudged along. “My regiment was counted to have the best legs for steady work in all the Duke of Marlborough’s army, and mine were considered the best pair in the regiment, but you put me to my trumps.” “Perhaps if you were as young as I you would put me to _my_ trumps, for--” At this moment a shot rang out in the frozen air, and a bullet made a clean hole through George’s buckskin cap. One glance showed him an Indian crouching in the brushwood. With a spring as quick and sure as a panther’s, George had the savage by the throat, and wrenched the firelock, still smoking, from his hand. Behind him half a dozen Indian figures were seen stealing off through the trees. Lance walked up, and, raising a hatchet over the Indian’s head, said, coolly: [Illustration: “GEORGE HAD THE SAVAGE BY THE THROAT”] “Mr. Washington, we must kill him as we would a rattlesnake.” “No,” replied George, “I will not have him killed.”[B] The Indian, standing perfectly erect and apparently unconcerned, understood well enough that the question of his life or death was under discussion, but with a more than Roman fortitude he awaited his fate, glancing indifferently meanwhile at the glittering edge of the hatchet still held over him. George took the hatchet from Lance’s hand, and said to the Indian, in English: “Though you have tried to kill me, I will spare your life. But I will not trust you behind me. Walk ten paces in front of us in the direction of the Alleghany River.” The Indian turned, and, after getting his bearings, started off in a manner which showed he understood what was required of him. The Indians have keen ears, so that George and Lance dared not speak in his hearing, but by exchanging signs they conveyed to each other that there were enemies on their path, of whom this fellow was only one. Steadily the three tramped for hours, Lance carrying the Indian’s gun. When darkness came on they stopped and made the Indian make the fire, which he did, scowling, as being squaw’s work. They then divided with him their scanty ration of dried venison, and George, taking charge of the guns, Lance slept two hours. He was then wakened by George, who lay down by the fire and slept two hours, when he too was wakened. George then said to the Indian, who had remained sleepless and upright all the time: “We have determined to let you go, as we have not food enough for three men. Go back to your tribe, and tell them that we spared your life; but before you go pile wood on the fire, for we may have to remain here, on account of the rise in the river, for several days.”