For a time the two white boys and the young Cherokee hunter gazed in silence at the sparkle of the Creek camp-fires; the woods seemed studded with them; hundreds of savages must have been camped within a circle of a half mile. “It’s almost a miracle how we got into the midst of them like this without seeing any of them, or their seeing us,” said Frank Lawrence. “We’d been traveling very quietly,” said Jack. “I suppose that accounts for it. But,” and he gazed around at the gleaming sparks of red light among the trees, “we must get out of this, and before daylight. If we don’t, we’ll be caught as sure as the sun rises.” “No get away in morning,” said Running Elk. “Best go now. Too many warriors to fight.” In the direction from which they came the camp-fires of the Indians were fewer; so the boys mounted once more and headed in that direction, aiming at a point between two of them which were farthest apart and therefore seemed to afford the best way out. There followed what they would all remember as one of the most perilous half hours of their lives; but, at length, they were out of the region of the camps and were making good speed away in the darkness. “Once or twice I thought sure that a sentinel would call to us,” said Frank. “We were so close to them that they couldn’t help thinking we were members of their own party,” said Jack, “and as they couldn’t make us out in the dark we had a few chances in our favor.” “Creek heap much sleep on watch,” charged Running Elk, with contempt. “No good!” The three rode all night; and as morning dawned, they saw signs of the white man’s hand all about them. “Hello!” cried Frank, “we’re closer to the settlements than I thought.” “Unless I’m wrong by a good deal,” said Jack, “we’re not far from Fort Mims.” “Fort there,” said the Cherokee, pointing toward a distant strip of woodland. “Other side of trees.” They did not go into camp, though tired by their night in the saddle; but cheerily rode toward the fort, feeling that a good breakfast awaited them. An hour’s ride brought them in sight of the fort, which stood on Lake Tensaw. Fort Mims was built and occupied by a half-breed named Samuel Mims, who had lived there in the wilderness many years. His house was a stout one of logs, and was surrounded by a stockade, pierced by loop-holes for rifle fire in case of attack. The place was only a little distance from the lake; all about it was forest, marsh and ravines. A large gate was let into the stockade at the north and there was another at the south. When the Creeks began their depredations on the border, the settlers of that section had flocked to Fort Mims. At this time there were some seventy-five men, mostly white, but some also of mixed blood, gathered behind the shelter of the stockade; and with these were a great number of women and children.