“That we’ll do,” returned the scout; “you have only to command us.” “A grave will have to be dug, and--” Here his voice broke down, and he sobbed bitterly. Old Tumult went out, and with the assistance of Town. and Mahaska, hollowed out two graves in the shadow of an oak that stood in front of the cabin. The bodies were then wrapped in blankets and carried out and laid in the graves, and covered from the view of the world forever. The old trader wept and moaned as though his heart would break, and when our friends had announced their intention of departing for the post, he called Old Tumult and Town. aside and said: “Tumult, I want you and Town. to come here to-morrow morning. Will you promise me that you will?” “We will,” responded the two, in a breath. “Do not fail. I have something to reveal to you--something that may be of interest to you both. I wish to show you the reward of the wicked and the wages of sin.” “We will come without fail,” said Old Tumult. And so the whites and the Sioux took their departure from the cabin, and Talbott Taft was left alone to weep and mourn. CHAPTER XVI. A SURPRISE. “The Indians are coming! the Indians are coming! to arms! to arms!” This was the startling cry that ran from lip to lip throughout Clontarf’s Post, as the hardy yeomanry of the settlement flew to their cabins for their arms, and hurried their wives and little ones away to the block-house. Those living just outside of the stockade were soon within the inclosure, whose gates were then securely barred and bolted against the party of Indians that had been discovered crossing the river a short distance above the post. Old Captain Storms, the military head and center of the post, was the first to discover the enemy, and he gave it as his firm belief that a hot time might be expected, for he said the enemy numbered two hundred strong--that they were a war-party bent upon death and destruction. In a few minutes the settlers were prepared for defense, although they were not, by any means, prepared for a lengthy siege. Father Earnshaw and Captain Storms now ascended to the top of the block-house to watch the movements of the enemy, while the settlers stood, rifle in hand, ready for the conflict. The two sentinels on the block-house were not a little surprised to see the enemy marching boldly down the river toward the stockade. “Ah! here they come, boys, three hundred strong!” the old captain shouted to the men below; “stand by your arms, for a bloody time is coming!” Father Earnshaw looked at the enemy until his eyes grew misty--he then took off his spectacles, wiped them--put them on again--glanced at the enemy, then turned to the old man-of-war at his side, and said: “Surely, captain, your eyesight is failing you, for according to my estimate of the enemy’s force, you have exaggerated their number in the ratio of about ten to one.”