“Cache on other side,” said Running Elk, who seldom made a mistake in his observations. “Much dried meat. Put there two snow moons ago.” Jack’s face lit up with recognition. “Why, so it is,” said he. “I hadn’t thought we’d gone so far.” Then to Frank he added: “This is the place we’ve been heading for.” “Is this the Alabama River?” asked the young Virginian. “Yes,” said Jack. “And from now on we’ll have our bearings pretty well laid out for us. Running Elk and myself hunted hereabouts two winters ago; that’s how we came to have the country so well in mind.” They forded the river and camped for the night on the opposite bank; next morning, after breakfast, Frank got out his chart, roughly done upon a piece of tanned deerskin in the pigment used by the Indians. “Here,” said he, his finger indicating the places on the chart, “is the Alabama. Just below is a place where a smaller stream flows into it, and upon the point of land between the two is a small clump of trees under which is written ‘Triple Oaks.’” “The clump would be three trees, I think,” said Jack, “and pretty big ones, to make them stand out so as to be noticed more than others.” “I should say so, too,” agreed Frank. “There is such a place as that not far down-stream,” said Jack. “At least I think there is. I remember some big oaks, just at a place where a creek runs into the river. But how many there are, I don’t know.” Then turning to Running Elk, he asked, “What do you remember about it?” The young Cherokee’s reply was brief and comprehensive. “One, two, three,” he counted upon his fingers. “Three oak trees. Grow near creek on river bank. Half a sun’s ride.” Jack chuckled and nodded to Frank. “He never forgets anything like that.” Frank was much gratified. “Good for you, old chap,” said he, slapping the Cherokee upon the shoulder. To Jack he said: “As we are without instruments, we couldn’t locate the tract without these landmarks, and it’s a great comfort to have some one along who knows where the landmarks are.” Again his fingers went from point to point upon the chart. “Here, to the north, is a hill; and around to the west is a pine forest; I think we ought, by the help of these, to prove if the three oaks you have in mind are the ones in the chart, or no.” When the horses had finished grazing, they were saddled, and the lads sprang upon their backs with keen excitement. That Running Elk was a most excellent judge of distance as well as topography was soon made manifest. For just about high noon, when the sun was staring like a huge fiery ball from directly overhead, Frank uttered a cry. “What is it?” demanded Jack, his hand going in the quick, instinctive movement of the frontiersman for his weapon. “The triple oaks,” was the reply, and Frank pointed over the tree tops.