"You have him, William! You have him!" he cried, waving his brother's hat as well as his own, about his head. "Don't let him hold you down!" But size and superior strength told at last, and the fighters for an instant separated and rose to their feet. Then it was seen that William had much the worst of the affair. One of his eyes was blackened, and he could scarcely close his small fists, but he faced his opponent bravely, and said, "Come on, come on, sir!" He was panting furiously, and snuffling to keep back the angry sobs. Carter, too, was breathing hard, sharp breaths. His lips were tightly pressed over his teeth, and the corner of his mouth was bleeding slightly. There was another rush, and William went down and lay there, for a blow had caught him squarely on the point of the chin. George threw down the hats and tore off his coat. "You said you'd fight us both," he shouted to the older boy, and drove at him, with both arms threshing like a small wind-mill. Carter could not resist the impetus of this fresh onslaught. Tired with his first struggle, inside a minute he cried, "Enough, enough. Two to one is too much for me. I've had enough, I say!" He had tripped over a branch and had fallen on the ground. George stood over him, and William, recovering, was shouting encouragement in turn. But further fighting was interrupted just here by a strange appearance. There was something that sounded like a laugh, and, looking up, the three boys saw, standing close to them, the bent form of the old Indian. "Ugh!" he said. "Heap fight. Great chiefs." Then he came closer. "No more fight," he said. "Good friends now. Great chiefs." He held in his fingers a short red clay pipe, from which the smoke was curling. "I've had enough," repeated Carter, glancing up at George. The old Indian made a funny gesture with his open hand. "No more fight," he said, at the same time turning round and striking the ground sharply with his moccasined feet. Something was so amusing in the old man's expression that George half smiled, and Carter, getting up, brushed the dirt from his knees and elbows. [Illustration: THE PIPE OF PEACE.] "Let's smoke the 'Pipe of Peace,'" he said. The old Indian seemed to understand him, for soon he sat upon the ground, and motioned the boys to join him. The four seated themselves in a circle. Old Adam gravely drew three puffs and made a guttural exclamation, at the same time passing the short clay pipe to George, who took a whiff. It made him cough, and the tears came into his eyes as he passed it on to Carter, who, still breathless, put it to his lips, and inhaled a little of the smoke. He immediately fell to coughing also, but handed the pipe to William, whose left eye was fast closing. William drew a long inhalation, and almost exploded, the smoke coming from his nose, and the tears running down his grimy face.