These bringing the party to a stand, the quick ears of the soldier detected the rattling of hoofs on the road behind, and presently their came rushing towards them with furious speed a solitary horseman, his head bare, his locks streaming in the wind, and his whole appearance betraying the extremity of confusion and terror; which was the more remarkable, as he was well mounted and armed with the usual rifle, knife, and hatchet of the back-woodsman. He looked as if flying from pursuing foes, his eyes being cast backwards, and that so eagerly that he failed to notice the party of wondering strangers drawn up before him on the road, until saluted by a halloo from Roland; at which he checked his steed, looking for an instant ten times more confounded and frightened than before. "You tarnation critturs!" he at last bawled, with the accents of one driven to desperation, "if there a'n't no dodging you, then there _a'n't_. Here's for you, you everlasting varmints--due your darndest!" With that he clubbed his rifle, and advanced towards the party in what seemed a paroxysm of insane fury, brandishing the weapon and rolling his eyes with a ferocity that could have only arisen from his being in that happy frame of mind which is properly termed "frightened out of fear." "How, you villain!" said Roland, in amazement, "do you take us for wild Indians?" "What, by the holy hokey, and _a'n't_ you?" cried the stranger, his rage giving way to the most lively transports; "Christian men!" he exclaimed in admiration, "and one of 'em a niggur, and two of em wimming! oh hokey! You're Capting Forrester, and I've heerd on you! Thought there was nothing in the wood but Injuns, blast their ugly picturs! and blast him, Sy Jones, as was, that brought me among 'em! And now I'm talking of 'em, Capting, don't stop to ax questions, but run,--cut and run, Capting, for there's an everlasting sight of 'em behind me!--six of 'em, Capting, or my name a'n't Pardon Dodge,--six of 'em,--all except one, and _him_ I shot, the blasted crittur! for, you see, they followed me behind, and they cut me off before: and there was no dodging 'em,--(Dodge's my name, and dodging's my natur')--without getting lost in the woods; and it was either losing myself or my scalp; and so that riz my ebenezer, and I banged the first of 'em all to smash--if I didn't, then it a'n't no matter!" "What, in Heaven's name," said Roland, overcome by the man's volubility and alarm together,--"what means all this? Are there Indians behind us?"