The flight of the Sioux scouts caused a change in the plans of Nat Trumbull. Knowing it was useless to try to surprise the dusky rogues, he brought his men together and rode rapidly toward the Clarendon cabin. He hoped to arrive before the raiders could get away, and to administer sharp punishment to them. Trumbull approached the house and smoking ruins with care, for there was abundant chance for their enemies to hide themselves and give the white men a rattling volley before they could escape the peril. It required considerable time for the rangers to learn that none of their enemies were there, and then Mr. Clarendon himself discovered the door of his house open. Still uncertain of the truth, he and his friends waited some time before daring to venture within. The conclusion of this examination was the natural one, that the Sioux had fled, taking the children with them. But, as it was clear they could not have gone far, Trumbull galloped with most of his men to the crossing, in the hope of coming upon the marauders there. He had no more than fairly convinced himself that he was in error again when Melville Clarendon rode up on Saladin, his father making his appearance shortly after. The light in the south-east had attracted the notice of the scouts some time before, and the story told by the youth led Trumbull to believe the main body was near the Upper Crossing, where doubtless they had made Red Feather prisoner. Accordingly, the dozen horsemen set their faces in that direction and struck into a rapid gallop. The leader was hopeful that, if the slippery scamps were located, he could reach them. He believed his men were as well mounted as they, and, if only a fair chance were given, they would compel the others to fight. Nat rode at the head, with Mr. Clarendon and Melville just behind him. The keen eyes of the ranger peered through the darkness into which he was plunging so swiftly, on the alert for the first sign of an enemy. As he drew near the Upper Crossing he slackened his pace slightly, those behind doing the same, with the exception of the settler and his son, who found themselves at the side of the leader. "Helloa! there's one of 'em!" exclaimed Nat. The three saw the figure of an Indian running over the ground with great swiftness. Knowing his danger, he flung aside his blankets, so that his flight was unimpeded, and his exhibition of speed excited the admiration of his pursuers. "Let him alone," added Trumbull; "I don't want any one else to interfere--he belongs to _me_." And then, to the astonishment of every one, the scout made a flying leap from the saddle, and bounded after the fugitive on foot. It was an odd chivalrous feeling which led him to do this. Inasmuch as the warrior had no pony, Trumbull meant that the contest between them should be without any unfair advantage to either party.