Harry, the young men, and all the children started with no less than seven dogs, and went in different directions through the woods, the dogs being divided among them. Cal Holdness and Harry were together, accompanied by Fan; the slut running through the woods, and then returning to them. At length they heard her barking at a distance in the woods. "She's treed something," said Harry,--"most like a bear or a coon. A bear ought to be in decent order now." Following the sound, they found Fan sitting at the butt of a great pine. As they approached, she began to bark, whine, and scratch the dead bark off the roots of the tree. "A bear wouldn't be denning this time of year. I'll wager it's Scip," said Harry. The tree was nearly dead; had a short butt, that, after running about eighteen feet, divided into three large branches; and an ash, uprooted by the wind, lay in the crotch. After quieting the dog, Harry, standing at the foot of the tree, began to call Scip by name, and tell him that the Indians were gone. For some fifteen minutes there was no answer; but at length Scip's woolly head appeared in the crotch of the tree, and by degrees was followed by his body. Harry and Cal always contended that he was pale. "Come down here, Scip," shouted Cal: "the Indians are gone." "Won't dey come back?" "Not without they come from another world: we've killed most of 'em." "Hab dey killed Massa Blanchard and all de rest but you?" "No: they haven't killed but three,--Mr. Stiefel, Wood, and David Blanchard. Come down." Scip, now satisfied, quickly descended along the trunk of the windfall, to the great joy of Fan, who almost flung him down, jumping on him, and licking his black face. "How did you know about that tree, Scip?" said Harry. "How'd you know 'twas hollow?" "Massa McClure kill a bear dere last fall." When Scip heard that more than a hundred Indians were coming to attack the fort, he felt sure they would take it, and determined to flee to this tree, taking provisions with him. When asked how he came to take that course, he replied that he recollected when the Indians killed Alexander McDonald's family, that his nephew Donald was at some distance from the house, in the woods, and, by hiding away there, saved his life; and so he thought it best to hide in the woods, for he knew the Indians would take the fort. CHAPTER IX. A LITTLE SUNSHINE. A week had passed since the occurrence of the events just narrated. It was a sunny morning; and Mrs. Sumerford was busily employed in weaving, having in the loom a web of linen. The dwelling of this motherly woman, so much beloved by her neighbors and especially by all the young fry, was a log house of the rudest description; still there was about it that air of neatness and comfort that a thrifty woman will create under almost any circumstances.