“I’m as well satisfied that we didn’t fall into the hands of those gentlemen,” observed Frank, as they rode away at a gallop. “I don’t think they’d stop at much.” “The Creeks are not the merciful kind,” said Jack. “And they seldom take prisoners.” “Creek burn and scalp,” stated Running Elk, calmly. “Him no good.” They rode all that night in order to put as much distance between them and the savage bands as possible; in the morning they had breakfast, saw to their horses and rested for a few hours; then they were off again. During that day they came upon innumerable Indian signs; in the course of the next they sighted a small party of Creeks headed through the forest, and toward evening they all but stumbled upon a large encampment. “It looks as though they were gathering for trouble,” said Frank. “The woods are alive with them.” “Like as not runners have been sent out to the different villages that the Prophet is here,” said Jack. “And, of course, they are all anxious to see him and hear his medicine.” “Much war,” said Running Elk, as they made away from the vicinity of the savage camp. “Creeks and Shawnee burn blockhouse and white face tepees.” “Do you think they’ll start soon?” asked Jack. “No.” The Cherokee hunter shook his head. “Not yet. After the snow’s gone from hills. Tribes all join together. Heap fight.” “That sounds like the facts,” nodded the young borderer to Frank. “It’ll take some time for Tecumseh to get the tribes together for the blow--if he can do it at all.” “Next spring, then, a big outbreak may be expected?” said Frank. “Maybe not so soon. But it will come, sooner or later, mark my words. The Injuns are about ripe for it.” That night they were unable to light a fire because of the closeness of the Indian bands; and the greater part of the next day they were forced to remain in hiding because of the parties of savages constantly encountered. This went on for some days; they were unable to cook their food the greater part of the time, and had little real rest, for it was necessary to guard against surprise every moment. After about a week of this sort of thing, Jack, one morning, said to Frank: “It doesn’t seem as though we were going to locate your father’s land grant in a hurry, does it?” Frank shook his head. “No,” said he. “We’ll never be able to move in that direction now. It must be alive with Indians.” “Too bad,” said Jack. “And we were just on the edge of it, too.” “What do you think we’d better do?” asked Frank. “Well, we can’t go back to Tennessee,” replied the young borderer. “That would be as dangerous as trying to locate the land marked on your chart. About the only thing I can see for the present, at least, is to make our way south to Mobile, and halt there for a while until this excitement among the redskins dies out.” “Good,” said Frank. And the Cherokee hunter grunted his approval.