"How does I know? A lot of 'em run off wid her last night." "Oh God! what I expected," said Leslie, dropping his voice, and gazing with an agonizing look at Whiteman. The latter, regardless of his emotion, continued his conversation with Zeb. "Are you hurt any?" "Considerable." "Now, Zeb, tell the truth. Did they capture George Leland?" "Bless you, no. He got away during de trouble." "Did they get Miss Leland?" "'Deed they did." "Is she with you?" "No. It took forty of 'em to watch me and de rest." Here the negro's words were cut short with a jerk, and he gave vent to a loud groan. "Gorra mighty!" he ejaculated, in fury. "Come ashore, Mr. Whiteman and Mr. Leslie. Come quick, and let dese yer fellers got you. Dey wants yer too." "Are there any of the imps with you?" asked Kent, more for amusement than anything else. "What shall I tell him?" the negro asked, in a husky whisper, loud enough to be plainly heard by the two in the boat. "Dey say dar ain't any of 'em. Talk yourself, if dat doesn't suit you," he added, in great wrath. "Three cheers for you," shouted Whiteman. "Are there any of 'em upon the other side?" "Dese fellers say dey am all dar. Gorra, don't kill me." "Good; you're the best nigger 'long the 'Hio. I guess we'll go over to the other side and visit them." So saying, Kent seized the oars and pulled for the opposite shore. He had not taken more than a couple of strokes when a dozen rifles cracked simultaneously from the bushes, and as many bullets struck the boat and glanced over the water. "Drop down," he whispered to Leslie. Instead of doing the same himself, he bent the more vigorously to his oars. A few minutes sufficed to carry them so far down that little danger was to be apprehended from the Indians, who uttered their loudest shouts and discharged their rifles, as they passed beyond their reach. "That's too good a chance to be lost," muttered the ranger, bringing his long rifle to his shoulder. Leslie followed the direction of his aim, and saw a daring savage standing boldly out to view, and making furious gesticulations toward them. The next instant Kent's rifle uttered its sharp report, and the Indian, with a yell, sprung several feet in the air, and fell to the ground. "That was a good shot," remarked Leslie, gazing at the fallen body. "Yes, and it's done just what I wanted it to," replied Kent, heading the boat toward shore. "They are going to pursue us, are they not?" asked Leslie. "Yes, and we'll have fun," added the ranger, as the boat touched the shore, and he sprung out. "Come along and make up yer mind for a long run," said he, glancing furtively toward the savages. Leslie sprung after him, and they darted away into the forest. When Whiteman had fired his fatal shot the Indians were so infuriated, that, setting up their demoniac yells, they plunged down the banks of the stream, determined to revenge their fallen companion.