As they left their clearing Pa said, “We’ll come home as soon as we can.” They trudged along silently, their moccasins and the horse’s hoofs, swishing softly through the fallen leaves. Sometimes Ma hummed softly to herself as if she were happy to be on the way to Harrodsburg. But Pa gazed resolutely ahead. They heard no other sounds for a mile or so. Then without warning, they found themselves surrounded by a dozen hideously painted Indians. Neither Pa nor Jim could raise their rifles before the Indians had seized and securely bound them. In trying to raise his rifle, Jim had dropped his drum and sticks, but he was too frightened to notice this. Ma screamed in terror as one of the Indians leaped upon her horse Nellie, tied Ma’s hands and rode off with her into the woods. Two other Indians tied leather thongs around Jim and Pa’s waists and began dragging them along behind Ma’s captor. The rest of the band picked up the rifles, drum and sticks and followed along, their whooping and yelling piercing the calm autumn stillness. Jim was terrified. He wondered if his father were; yet he could do nothing but stumble along behind the Indian who kept jerking the leather thong. Although Jim was frightened, he did not forget what Pa had said when they found Wahbunou in the woods. Had it been a trick? Were these Indians some of Wahbunou’s people? Was this the thanks the Hudsons received for caring for him? [Illustration: uncaptioned] [Illustration: uncaptioned] Chapter III AN EXCHANGE AT THE SALT LICK The Indians dragged Jim and his father rapidly through the woods until the Hudsons thought they could go no farther. They were happy to reach a small clearing where more Indians were waiting with their women, children and extra horses. To Jim’s relief he saw his mother still sitting on their old Nellie. During her ride, Ma’s usually neat blond hair had fallen down over her shoulders. Half a dozen women were crowding around her, fingering her hair and talking excitedly to each other. When they caught sight of Jim’s towhead, they laughed and ran their fingers over his hair, too. Several men were going through the peddler’s pack of food. After one look, they dumped the turnips on the ground. But the meat they carefully repacked. Pa tried to smile reassuringly at Ma and Jim, but one of the men clapped him on the head, picked him up as though he were a feather and dumped him head down across a horse. Then the Indian climbed on behind him. In a moment a second man had done the same to Jim. At once the band rode off with their three white prisoners toward the north.