One was much taller than his companion, and his face looked sad and careworn. Both carried rifles, and tomahawks peeped above their deerskin belts. They cut a strange figure with white hands and faces, but with shoulders copper-colored, like the Indians'. Their scanty garments were of genuine Indian manufacture, and tufts of feathers, daubed with ochre and sienna, crowned their heads. "They mean mischief," Carl Merriweather suddenly exclaimed. "Don't let them get to camp if they are really enemies; don't let them see how weak we are." A moment later George Darling rose and spoke to the advancing couple: "Friends or enemies?" he cried. The strangers executed a sudden halt, and hastily cocking their rifles, looked about for the speaker. But the young man was not easily seen, for his body was screened by a tree. "Friends or enemies?" he repeated. "You can't advance until you have told us." "Friends, of course," was the response by the youngest of the twain. "You belong to Abel Merriweather's family, and we are attached to Wayne's command." "Thank God!" cried Carl Merriweather, springing from his place of concealment and hastening toward the new comers. "You saved your lives by washing the paint from your faces. What are your names?" "Mine is Harvey Catlett and my friend's is Abner Stark; but every where they call him Wolf Cap," was the reply. "And you are Mad Anthony's scouts? Glory!" the overjoyed youth shouted, and then George Darling managed to get a word in. "You are very welcome," he said. "Heaven knows that we need your assistance. Did you know we were here?" "We did," said young Catlett, "and as we feared that you might send a bullet into the first red face that greeted you, we thought best to make ours white before making your acquaintance." "Thank God for that," responded Darling fervently, and he shuddered when he thought how nearly he had taken the life of a succoring friend. It was with joy that the youths led the scouts into the forest. They felt that great assistance had been sent them from on high. CHAPTER VIII. A SECOND CATASTROPHE. Harvey Catlett and his companion were received with great joy at the camp near the river bank. The fugitives took new hope with their appearance, and seemed to think that the remainder of the journey to Wayne would be accomplished without further trouble. Mrs. Merriweather so expressed herself, when the young woodsman shook his head and replied: "We cannot save you in and of ourselves," he said; "but we will do all we can. The trails to Wayne's army are dark and perilous. I do not seek to keep anything back." "That is right, sir," said the father quickly. "My wife is prone to exaggerate good fortune. I do not want her to remain deceived. I comprehend the situation, and am prepared for it." "That is right," said Wolf Cap. "In these times one must know something about Indian affairs."