The Indian did not wholly trust them, it was plain to be seen. Unable to fight, he seemed ready to stoically meet his fate without a whimper, for, perhaps, he fully expected these enemies to knock him on the head, because it was evident from the nature of his wound that he had been in the recent engagement. "Let me look at your hurt, Blue Jacket," said Bob, bending down over the recumbent figure. The other set his teeth hard, but beyond a grunt gave no sign, while the white lad carefully drew away the cloth which was tied about the leg in which a bullet had become imbedded. In some way the wounded brave must have become separated from his fellows, and, while trying to get to his village alone, had fallen here through weakness caused by the loss of blood. "He would have been dead by morning if some one had not found him," declared Bob as he started to cleanse the wound as well as possible just then, meaning to repeat the operation when he could have warm water in plenty. Those beady eyes followed each gentle action with perplexity that gradually grew into confidence. Blue Jacket was learning a new lesson in warfare. His savage conception of how a fallen enemy should be treated had received a rude jolt. "Here, Sandy," said the young surgeon, presently, "take hold of his feet, and we will carry him over to where we expect to camp on the site of the coming settlement. The poor fellow shall not die if I can help it. You found him, and he belongs to us. Remember that, if anybody wants to do him an injury. Pat will stand by us, I'm sure; and mother must, for has she not always told us we should do good even to them that persecute us. Now, gently, Sandy. An Indian can suffer, if he does refuse to show it." CHAPTER XIII BLUE JACKET "How will this place do?" asked Bob, coming to a halt, and the boys gently lowered their burden to the ground. "Just the place where I'd like to see our cabin raised, with that fine view of the river up and down," declared the other, enthusiastically. "And that is why I chose it," answered Bob with a smile. "If we are already at work here, father and mother will naturally come along to us, and the thing is done without any fuss." The young Indian had not said a single word since making the assertion that his name was Blue Jacket, and that he was a brave, not a boy. Those keen black eyes had observed all that the Armstrong lads did with an ever-increasing knowledge of what it meant. There was something in their manner of handling him that spoke louder than words to the wild heart of this child of the forest; and already he had begun to feel confidence in them. "Now, start a blaze as soon as you like, Sandy. By the time they get here the fire will be good and hot, so that water will heat in a jiffy."