"I heard something fall, but I supposed it was a nut dropped by a squirrel," replied Bob, at the same time placing the trap on the ground while he leaned over to examine. "I never saw the squirrels and raccoons so tame as they are along here. Really now, I believe they would almost take a piece of mother's hoe-cake right out of my hand. Where was it you saw the nut fall, Sandy? Am I near it now? Tell me when I get warmer or colder, like we do in that game the girls liked to play back in Virginia." "There, it must have been about where your hand is now; and--why, what is that?" and Sandy stared with all his might at the object Bob was holding up in his hand. "An arrow! An Indian arrow! Oh! some prowling red wolf has been trying to shoot us down as we sit here. What a narrow escape you had!" "Wait, Sandy!" exclaimed Bob, quickly, and with that vein of authority in his voice which he at times almost unconsciously assumed when endeavoring to check the hasty actions of his younger brother. "Look again, and perhaps you may remember seeing just such an arrow as this before." Sandy sank back in his seat, as though his sudden fright had passed away. "Oh! it is the same Delaware arrow!" he cried. "Our good, but unknown friend has once more sent us a warning that danger hangs over our heads! Pull the message off, Bob, and let us see what it says! How splendid of this strange protector to follow us all the way from our old home, away up the Ohio, to this new land. What could we have done to deserve such kindness, such faithfulness?" Bob had not been idle all the time Sandy was talking. As before, there was a strip of birch bark fastened to the stout reed that constituted the shaft of the feathered arrow, bearing the Delaware flint barb. Again were crude but easily understood figures scratched upon the light brown side of the bark; this time they were very numerous, and told a story as plain as though it had been printed with types. There was a campfire, and a tied-up flatboat, which must belong to them. About that fire a number of people seemed to be leisurely taking their ease. Stars dotted what was intended for the sky overhead; and one large one in particular was just above the horizon, indicated by a straight line. Many recumbent figures, with feathers, different in arrangement from any seen before, adorning their scalplocks, were evidently crawling up through the long grass, coming from both sides. They carried bows and arrows, and a few of them guns. Sandy looked at the drawing, holding his very breath meanwhile. "It means that we will be attacked by a tribe of Indians we've never met before, doesn't it?" he demanded. "Because, I remember how the Shawanees, the Delawares, the Pottawottomies, the Senecas, the Miamis and the Hurons wear feathers in their hair when on the war-path, and these are different."