"I see there's but one feeling among us," said Honeywood: "that is, to preserve our crops if it can be done without risking the lives of our household. Suppose we do this: Let one party lay in ambush at the ford among the bushes and drift timber on the edge of the bank on the side next the fort, and another party lay in ambush on the opposite bank in the woods; then both parties hold their fire till a good many Indians are in the water crossing, and then open fire on them. It will be a great deal lighter on the river than in the woods, as there will be part of a moon; and, looking out of the darkness into the light, we can see them better than they can see us. So heavy a fire as both parties can throw will stagger them; and in surprise they will fall back, as Indians always do when they lose men. Then the party on the western side can recross, join the others, and we can hold the ford, or retreat to the fort, as we think best." "I like that," said Holdness: "then the party on the western bank can be protected while crossing by the fire of the others, if the Indians attack 'em in the water." "Harry Sumerford," said Grant, "you seem to have something on your mind, and we would like to hear it." "I think there are people here whose opinions are of much more value than mine, Mr. Grant. I was going to say that Dick Ellison told Mr. Honeywood that the Black Rifle was at his place in the mountains, and was going to stay there quite a spell. Now, he generally has ten or a dozen men that he can lay his hands on when he wants 'em for a scalping-scrape, and perhaps they might help us. They are men to be depended upon, or the Black Rifle would have nothing to do with them." "I'll go," said Nat Cuthbert: "I know the road." "Take my horse," said Armstrong, "and ride for your life, and all our lives: if you kill him, no matter." "What shall I say to him?" "Just tell him a hundred Indians are on the road from Kittanning, to attack us at daybreak to-morrow morning. He'll know what ter do; and he'll want no coaxing ter come ter such a party, I kin tell you," said Holdness. "If I ain't back by midnight, you may know he's coming, and that I'm coming with him." "Where were all our wits, that we could none of us think of that," said Honeywood, "when Dick told me, and I told the rest of you, that the captain was about getting up a scalping-party? God grant they may not have started before Nat gets there!" "He may be alone," said Grant; "may not have got his party together yet." "If he is alone," said Holdness, "he'll come: and his war-whoop is worth a dozen men. There ain't an Indian this side the Monongahela, but knows the Black Rifle's yell, for it don't sound like any thing else in this world; and, when they hear it, they'll think their game is up."