"Yes, I knew that was it," said Sandy, quickly. "Oh! I do hope he has been successful in finding work to-day, for he declared it would be the last time he would try. What do you suppose we can do if he fails, Bob?" "There is only one thing," came the reply, with compressed lips; "we must leave here, and go further west. I know father is thinking seriously about it. The last time that jolly trapper, Pat O'Mara, was here, father questioned him often about the stories he had heard Colonel Boone tell of that wonderful country beyond the mountains, and the beautiful Ohio River." [Illustration: "DISCOVERED A HALF CIRCLE OF GLEAMING YELLOW EYES WATCHING HIM."] "I think I should like that," observed the impetuous Sandy, always eager to see new sights, and filled with the enthusiasm of a light-hearted boy. "If half they say about that country be true, it must be glorious. And the hunting and trapping we could do, Bob! Yes, I hope father decides to join fortunes with the first company of people passing through here." Bob said no more. He knew that the little mother would be sorry to break many ties; but also that she would utter no word to dissuade her husband, when the time came. And perhaps the more thoughtful Bob could also foresee better than Sandy what new perils might await the daring pilgrims who ventured into the hunting-grounds of the warlike Shawanee Indians. Presently he made Sandy lie down to snatch an hour's sleep, when he promised to awaken him so that he in turn might watch. This rule was carried out, and each of them had managed to secure quite a little sleep by the time the night was two-thirds passed. It was Sandy's turn on guard. The fire was burning briskly, the storm seemed to be slackening up somewhat, and everything looked so promising that the boy grew a trifle careless. He allowed himself to doze beside the fire, his musket between his knees. This was, after all, hardly to be wondered at, as any one knows who, being desperately in need of sleep, tries to withstand the soothing heat of a warm blaze. Perhaps Sandy may have been dreaming of boyish troubles with some of the young fellows of the town, once their warm friends, but just now commencing to ape their parents in turning the cold shoulder toward the Armstrong family. Be that as it may, Sandy awoke with a start. He found the fire had gone down so that only now and then a tongue of flame shot upward from the log that had been burning so fiercely the last thing he remembered. And, as some grinding sound caught his ear, he glanced up and discovered a half circle of gleaming yellow eyes watching him from over the top of the barricade! CHAPTER IV THE WOLF PACK "BOB! Wake up! The wolves!"