The sun was now far up in the eastern sky, and he concluded that he would take that direction as that would take him to Peenpack. Reloading his gun, he threw it across his shoulder and started for higher ground in an easterly direction. He had proceeded but a short distance, when he heard a voice say in plain English: “North! North! A little further north!” This both pleased and frightened him, and jumping upon a large log, and looking in the direction from which the sounds proceeded, to his astonishment, he saw a man standing behind something that had three legs, waving his hands. Looking in the direction that the hand indicated, he saw another man holding a flag. On the top of these legs was something that glittered in the sun like gold. The man that stood behind it would look down at it, and then at the flag. In looking a little further back, he saw ten or twelve men, some of them on horses, some with axes and some drawing a long, light chain. He was amazed at the sight, not knowing whether to hide or run. He heard a slight noise behind him, and turning around, stood face to face to some kind of a being. He knew not what it was. It looked just like a man, only it was jet black, curly hair and pearly-white teeth. He thought it must be the devil that his mother had told him about, but he failed to see the forked tail. In his fright he sprang from the log and ran towards the white man. Indian! Indian! cried the devil behind him. Instantly the whole party was in commotion, and the men on the horses raised their guns. Who? Where? What is it? cried the man at the three legged object. Here, Massa, here! cried the black, at the same time seizing Walter by the coat. This soon brought the whole party to the spot where the negro held Walter. Webb saw at once that his supposed enemy was but the stripling of a boy, and a white boy at that. Who is it with you? pleasantly asked Webb. No one; Walter replied in a mild and mannerly way. No one? said Webb, that can’t be, boy, you are fifty miles from any habitation, you are a stool pigeon for the Indians! Stool pigeon, sir? I don’t know what stool pigeon is, I have not seen any Indians. Are you alone? Yes. Where is your father? I haven’t got any; he was drowned yesterday in the Callicoon. Webb at once became interested in the boy, and said: Sit down, and tell us all about your father and mother, and how they came to get drowned. Walter began where his recollections commenced, and gave a history of his family; where they came from; their living on the Callicoon; the water-spout; the breaking of the beaver dam; his parents being hurled into the mad, wild Callicoon, and closed his narrative with the description of his encounter with the bear and panther. Webb, though of a rough exterior, had a kind and sympathizing heart. I believe you, boy, I believe every word you say, and promise you a protector until a better one is provided. When did you have anything to eat last?