Not a word was spoken, Rodney cautioning all to silence. Every eye and ear was on the alert. Who knew but what they might be running into an ambush of the worst kind? When the watercourse was gained,—a small stream flowing to the southeastward,—they came to a halt in a small grove of hemlocks and walnuts. Not another Indian had appeared, for which all were thankful. The din to the northward was now growing less, and Rodney was certain that White Buffalo and his handfuls of braves were in retreat, not daring to meet the superior force under Moon Eye. On gaining the vicinity his Indian friend had mentioned to him, Rodney lost no time in looking around for Sam Barringford. “Sam!” he called, softly. “Sam, are you here?” “Rodney!” came in a weak voice. “Here I be—an’ glad ye have come!” The old frontiersman was up in a short, wide-spreading tree, where White Buffalo and another friendly red man had placed him. He was weak from his encounter with the enemy and glad to have the young soldier and the others come to his aid. “I had what ye might call a putty clost shave,” said Barringford. “They got me down an’ one o’ the rascals war a-goin’ to sculp me when Moon Eye cuts in an’ says to let me alone—he would torture me into tellin’ em’ some o’ the white folks’ secrets—about the fort an’ the soldiers on the march, an’ sech. They war a-goin’ to burn me at a stake—jest as them Injuns war goin’ to burn me when I war on my way to Detroit with Dave,—when White Buffalo plays a trick on ’em.” “What did he do, Sam?” “Got one o’ his followers to wave a torch from some rocks. The feller war kivered with a white blanket an’ I reckon they took him fer a ghost. When Moon Eye’s crowd war lookin’ at the figger in white, White Buffalo come up to me, fixed up as one o’ the enemy, an’ cuts me loose. I didn’t know him myself till he spoke. The disguise did the trick, and we got away into the forest. Then I dropped, I war thet weak, and they brung me here. Then he said he would do what he could fer ye—an’ he must have kept his word, or ye wouldn’t be here,” concluded the old frontiersman. White Buffalo had mentioned another spot—down the river—where the party of whites might wait until morning for the Delawares to join them. Helping Sam Barringford upon one of the horses that had been carrying supplies, they set off for the place mentioned, reaching it without mishap just as day was breaking. By this time the entire party was so worn out that half the number were glad to throw themselves down to rest, leaving the others on guard for two hours, when they were relieved by their companions. A light breakfast was served, no campfire being lit for fear the smoke might attract the attention of the enemy.