"I declare, Sammy Sumerford's come back again. I did hope I was done with knives, tomahawks, and Indian fightin'." "I'm sure, mother, I don't know to please you. You wanted the Indian war to be over, 'cause it worried you to see me so full of fighting; and then when the Indians held off a little, you was worried about the water and the raft and the wild beasts. Then I went to making pots, and it was first-rate for a little while; but you soon began to worry again, 'cause I was so still, and didn't seem nat'ral, and tear round and yell. And now I'm nat'ral again, you don't like that nuther." The ground of all this excitement was, that in expectation of being called to defend the fort, and on account of the arrival of the Black Rifle, Capt. Sumerford was preparing to muster his men for drill and ball-practice, that had been neglected of late. Having set up a target, he was drilling his company before the fort, Scip beating the drum, and Cal Holdness playing the fife. A great part of the male portion of the settlers were looking on, the women being too much occupied in preparations for the departure of the former to be present. The wounded men also were seated among the rest, when the Black Rifle himself came along, with his hands full of beaver-traps for Honeywood to mend, and on his way to the blacksmith's shop. You may be assured the "Screeching Catamounts" did their best in such august presence; and their hearts beat high. The Black Rifle and his men were loud in their expressions of surprise and approbation. The captain then drew up his men to fire at the target two hundred yards distant. "I wouldn't have believed," said Capt. Jack, "that these children, as you must needs call 'em, could shoot so. Why, the red-coats in the army, and half the soldiers in the forts along the frontier, can't begin with 'em." "We've burnt a good deal of powder, used a good deal of lead, teaching them, and sometimes when we didn't know how to spare it," said McClure. "Not a kernel of powder nor an ounce of lead has been wasted: you may be sure of that." He was, if possible, more surprised when they were exercised in throwing the tomahawk, shooting with bow and arrow, and imitating the voices of beasts and birds. There was scarcely any thing they could not imitate, from the chirrup of the cricket to the scream of an eagle, except the grum notes of the bull-frog: their voices were too shrill for that. "This," said the Black Rifle, "is the best of all,--even beats the shooting with rifles: 'cause it requires judgment that you wouldn't expect in so young persons, to throw the tomahawk, or shoot with a bow." "I never was in this clearing afore," said William Blythe, one of the three men who came with the captain; "but, if these are the children, what must the men be like?" CHAPTER XXII. CARRYING THE WAR INTO AFRICA.