“What’s the matter o’ you, Ross Douglas? Have you gone daft an’ blind, that you don’t know y’r own comrades an’ go right past ’em without speakin’? Say!” Ross forced a laugh and joined the men at their morning meal. But he ate little and talked less; seeing which, one of the militiamen remarked mischievously: “Douglas, you don’t ’pear to be very peart this mornin’. You must be grievin’ ’bout the gal you left behind you. You’d better pitch into the grub; it’ll be gone purty soon. We may have a fracas with the redskins ’fore night. An’ a man always fights best on a full stomach.” “Ugh!” Bright Wing grunted approvingly. “Eat heap much—fight heap hard. Kill many Shawnees. Ugh!” “That’s ph’losophy fer you,” grinned Joe. “The Injin knows w’en his bread’s buttered—he does. Ross, you ain’t eatin’ enough to keep a pigeon alive. You’ll be lanker ’n a starved houn’ ’fore night—you will, by Melissy! Peart up, man; don’t let love-affairs git you down. Lordy! I’ve had hundreds of ’em—an’ I’m able fer three square meals a day yit. What’re you so down in the mouth bout?” “I’m all right—nothing ails me,” Douglas replied hastily, arising and walking away. Duke followed him. The intelligent animal knew that something had gone amiss with the master he loved. Farley looked after them and lugubriously shaking his head muttered: “Well, if that don’t beat my reckonin’, my name ain’t Joseph Peregoy Farley!” It was mid-forenoon ere the army was again upon the march. Very slowly the great serpent—that was intended to choke the life out of Tecumseh’s infant confederacy—dragged its cumbersome body forward. Governor Harrison and his staff rode in the van. Ross Douglas and Bright Wing kept near him. When the army was four miles from camp, savages were seen skulking from one sheltered point to another. The commander halted his troops and sent forward a number of scouts and interpreters. The men returned and informed him that they could not come up with the redmen, who fled from them, with insulting words and threatening gestures. Among the interpreters sent forward were Douglas and the Wyandot. On his return to Harrison’s presence, Ross reported as follows: “Governor, the Indians fled from us, as on yesterday. They mean mischief. You must be prepared for treachery, if you hold a council with them. You know now that Bradford attempted to deceive you this morning, when he told you the savages were anxious for peace.” “You heard his report?” Harrison asked quickly. “I did.” “By the way”—and the governor glanced hurriedly around—“where _is_ the man? I ordered him to remain within call.” “I haven’t seen him since we left camp,” Ross answered. The commander bent forward in the saddle and motioned the young scout to come closer. Then drawing down his brows until his eyes were almost closed, he whispered: “Do you believe Bradford entered the Indian town at all?” “Yes, I do,” was the positive reply. “Ah!” The governor looked relieved.