"Hold!" exclaimed Leland, brightening up. "I have a plan. You say that Kent, in the course of an hour or so, will probably be near enough for you to fire. I will try and not bring down any game until that time, and the minute you hear the report of my gun you must discharge yours. This will have the effect that you wish, and I shall have time to reach you before any one can come up." "A capital idea," said Leslie. "Hearing two guns, the Indians will have a little more fear in approaching us, than they would did they hear but one. You deserve credit, George, for the thought." "Remember, and wait until you hear my gun, before you fire yours," replied he. "I will wait an hour, George; and then, whether I hear yours or not, I shall discharge mine. As I said a while ago, it won't do to let Kent escape us, and I must be sure to warn him." "I trust that I shall encounter game before that time; but should I not, you must do as you said. I will return upon hearing you." "And return instantly," said Leslie, impressively. "Don't wait until the danger is increased. Although it may seem that a few minutes will enable you to procure abundant food, don't wait a single minute. It may cost you your life, if you do." "I will remember your advice. Now shove in a little nearer shore and I will be off." Leslie brought the boat to the bank, and Leland stepped off. "Try and not be gone long; do not wander too far, for it will be an easy thing to get lost in this forest. Remember that it will take you considerable time to reach me, and if the distance be too great, an enemy may be ahead of you. Be careful in all your movements, and be sure to return the instant that my gun is heard." "I will try and obey you," returned Leland. And George disappeared in the mazes of the woods. Leslie returned to his former position, and more to occupy his mind than anything else, gazed out upon the broad bosom of the Ohio, as it glided majestically along, through the dark shadows of the forest. It then presented a far different appearance from what it does at this day. No crowded cities then lined its banks. The flaming steamboat had not broken its surface; the canoe, gliding noiselessly over it, was all that gave token of the presence of man. A rude cabin erected in some lone spot in the wilderness, like a green spot in the desert, showed the feeble footing which he had upon the soil. Solemnly and silently the old Ohio rolled along through its hundreds of miles until it as solemnly and silently united with the great father of waters. When one has recently passed through an exciting and momentous occurrence, and is then left completely alone, it is difficult to keep from falling into a reverie; the subject which interests the mind most will finally occupy it to the exclusion of everything else.