His voice rose almost to a scream as he concluded. 'I say, Tinling, I do believe you're in a funk!' said Guy, after a moment of wondering silence. 'If you are, say so, and we shall know what to do,' added Jack, feeling in his pocket. 'Are you?' 'Feel his hands,' suggested Guy. 'Look here,' said Clarence, dashing aside the obstacles before the door, 'I'm not going to stay here to be treated in this way. If it hadn't been for your foolery in sticking up the notices we should have been friends with the Indians now. I don't want to quarrel with any Bogallala. And you have the cheek to ask me if I'm in a funk, and to want to feel my hands. Well, it just serves you right--I'm going.' 'Well, go then; who wants you?' said Guy. But softer-hearted Jack said, 'Clarence, you mustn't. You'll be safe in here; but out there----' But the General had already vanished. He was crouching outside in the shadow of the stockade. He could not bear being penned up any longer; he must at least have a run for his life. Had the enemy heard him declare his innocence? If so, it did not seem to have softened them. They were still crouching--silent, hidden, relentless--behind the currant bushes, their scouts signalling to one another, for no _real_ grasshopper ever made so much noise as that. He must make a bolt for it, and take his chance of their arrows missing him. Over the open space of grey-green grass he scuttled, and actually succeeded in reaching the friendly shadow of the holly hedge unharmed; but that was probably because they felt so certain of cutting him off at their pleasure. On tiptoe and trembling went the General along the narrow paths, green with damp, and latticed by the shadows which branches cast in the sickly moonlight, until--just when he was almost clear of the gloom--his knees bent under him; for there, at the end of the walk, against the starry sky, stood a towering figure, with bristling feather head-dress, and tomahawk poised. 'Oh, please, sir, don't!' he faltered, and shut his eyes, expecting the Indian to bound upon him. But when he opened his eyes again, the savage was gone! He must have slipped behind a ragged old yew which had once been clipped and trimmed to look like a chess-king.