We return to other characters of our romance in order to glance at their adventures from our last dealings with them up to the night before the great fight for supremacy on the shores of the Maumee. We left Kate Merriweather returning to her kindred with Harvey Catlett and her lover after her rescue in the cabin of James Girty. The restoration was effected without incident worthy of record, and the girl at last found herself in her mother's arms. The journey was then resumed, and the entire party, with the exception of Little Moccasin, who mysteriously returned to the forest, reached Mad Anthony's camp. It may well be believed that Abel Merriweather breathed free again when he found his little family behind the bayonets of the American army, and he hastened to enroll himself among the ranks of bordermen led by Wells and the Choctaw chief Hummingbird. In this legion were also found Oscar Parton, George Darling, and little, but fearless Carl Merriweather. Harvey Catlett was unattached, and Wolf Cap given the liberty of the field. Around and upon the Hill of Presqu'-Isle the Indian forces had posted themselves, having their left secured by the river, and their front by a kind of breastwork of fallen timbers which rendered it impracticable for cavalry to advance. It was a position admirably chosen, but useless, as history tells. Impatiently the allied tribes awaited the American army. The chiefs, with few exceptions, were confident, for had they not beaten Harmar and St. Clair? The Girtys had not shirked the battle, but there was a restlessness about Simon's movements that attracted attention. James, on the contrary, was firm and boastful. Wherever he went he encouraged the Indians to stand firm, promising them victory and its tempting spoils. But there were keen eyes fixed upon him. In the scarlet ranks were many who carried a long scar on their breasts--the mark of the brotherhood to whom Parquatin's blood cried for vengeance. In two splendid columns, with trailed arms, Wayne's army advanced upon the savages. A terrible fire greeted the onslaught, and the General soon discovered that the enemy were in full force and endeavoring, with some show of success, to turn his left flank. Then came the tug of war, and for hours the carnival of battle raged among the fallen timbers and around the base of the hill. "At last! look Harvey!" Wolf Cap pointed through an opening, and Harvey Catlett, the spy, saw the sight to which his attention was called. There, in a little space made by the death of a forest tree, stood a man whose face was begrimed with powder. His half savage uniform was torn and blackened by the battle, and he seemed debating whether to fly or plunge again into the fight. "It is he!" said the young spy, looking up into Wolf Cap's face. "It is Jim Girty." "The man who darkened all my life!" was the hissed reply. "For years I have hunted him. Now he is mine!"