But there were two respects in which their rules would have profited by a little overhauling. We consider an hour and a half ample time for a match to last; but, though Captain Hall watched the Indians' game for five hours, it was not quite finished when he left. Twenty "was the game," and any footballer knows that that number of goals is not to be scored all in a hurry, when both teams are equally active, powerful, and skilled men. The scoring, by the way--or the counting of the goals--was done by the two mathematicians of the tribe, each of whom was supplied with ten sticks, and stuck one of them in the ground every time a goal was gained by his side. The dear old gentlemen could not count above ten, so, when the eleventh goal had to be marked, the sticks were pulled up and the reckoning was begun a second time. [Illustration: A GAME AT BALL This game is a mixture of tennis, lacrosse, and Rugby football. The rules are few and simple, the object being to gain possession of the ball by any means and hurl it between the goalposts of the opponents. The safety or comfort of the onlookers is of no consequence whatever.] The other direction in which the Indian laws cried loudly for amendment concerned the spectators even more closely than the players. There was no "touch" line, nor was the ball, no matter where it went, ever regarded as _in_ "touch." With a pitch only twenty yards wide, it will easily be seen that the ball was, from time to time, knocked or thrown among the onlookers; but that was their own affair, argued the players, who rushed pell-mell among them, screaming and struggling, hitting or kicking, or trampling right and left. Indeed, it was one of these wild rushes that was the means of bringing Captain Hall's interest in the contest to an abrupt end. The ball had come within a yard or two of him, plump between the two scorers, each of whom wisely made an instantaneous dash into the open and so avoided the onrush of the players. If Hall had had two more seconds at his disposal he would have seized the ball and flung it into play again; but the sportsmen were too near. "Tree, tree," shouted the agent behind him; and waiting for no second reminder, the active sailor sprang at the bough above him and hoisted himself into safety just as the crowd swarmed over and half killed a boy who was trying to follow him into the tree. When the ball was safely on the other side of the ground he climbed down. "I'm going," he said resolutely. They reached their horses and were riding slowly back towards the village when shouts resounded behind them, eclipsing the loudest and noisiest of any they had heard that day. "The end of the game," said Hall. "Our side were nineteen when we came away." "Ay, the end of the game," assented the young American; "and the beginning of the fighting. The losers are getting ready to whop the winners. Are you keen on going back again?" CHAPTER VI WITH THE DELAWARES AND CREES