A despairing yell arose from the Indians, as a third received a severe cut, and the remaining two, who were hurrying toward the scene, paused, dismayed. Putting forth all his strength, the youth shook himself from those who held him, and stood, for a moment, free. Ere he could realize the fact, a heavy blow from behind felled him to the ground, and, in a moment, he was bound, hand and foot. Leaving their slain companions, the Indians made their way into the village, sending the wounded brave before them to bear the joyful tidings. As the clamorous multitude rushed about him, Alfred nerved himself for the worst. As the word was given, he set his teeth, braced his nerves, and bounded forward like a deer. The young settler was strong of limb, and very active. None were fleeter of foot than he, and the speed with which he set forth, fairly astonished the warriors themselves. Nearly half the line was passed before the blows seemed to touch him. Then, as they came with more effect, he staggered beneath their weight. His strength proved sufficient, however, and he reached the end of the line, smarting and bruised, yet with a spirit unbroken. A yell from the Indians showed their appreciation of the sport, as the prisoner was led away to a place of security. Upon the outskirts of the village was a strong, dark old cabin, built of logs, and covered with bark. The structure was clumsily formed, but solid, and the door so constructed as to bar heavily upon the outside. This above-ground dungeon was opened, and Alfred, securely bound, was thrust in. The savages took a hasty survey, and, finding the place secure, set a guard and departed. The prisoner’s arms and shoulders were bruised and swollen, while his head throbbed and ached fearfully. He endeavoured to think calmly of himself and companions, but the effort was too much, and he bowed his head with a groan. * * * * * “I’m afeard they’ve got Alf,” said David, with a shake of the head. Charles feared the same, but he could not bear the thought. A few moments confirmed their worst suspicions, and revealed the fact that the daring youth was really a prisoner. With a gasp of pain, Charles clutched the arm of the scout, whispering: “Good Heaven! it _is_ Alfred.” “It’s certainly him,” returned Dave, in a collected manner; “an’ I afeard he’s got us all into a scrape this time. But we can’t help it now. Thar’s one advantage; it’ll show us what force the reds have got here, an’ we can calculate accordin’ly.” “But may there not be danger for Alfred?” asked Charles. “I fear they may sacrifice him, at once, in their excitement and rage.” “Not a bit o’ danger there,” responded David, with the utmost coolness. “Yer see, Bill has control of all that’s done in this village, and the red reptiles ’d no more dare take the life of a prisoner, than jest nothin’ at all. They’ll save him till their cruel leader gits home—then’ll be the danger.”