r

 
 THE SIGN OF 
 THE PROPHET 
 
 A TALE OF TECUMSEH 
 AND TIPPECANOE 
 
 BY 
 
 James Ball Naylor 
 
 Author of RALPH MARLOWE 
 
 AKRON, OHIO 
 
 THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 NEW YORK 1901 CHICAGO
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1901, 
 
 BY 
 THE SAAI.FIEIvD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 MADE BY 
 
 THE WERNER COMPANY 
 
 BOOK MANUFACTURERS 
 AKRON, OHIO
 
 TO 
 
 SAMUEL G. MCCLURE 
 
 of The Ohio State Journal, 
 who encouraged my early 
 literary endeavors, this book 
 is gratefully dedicated. 
 
 Very Truly, 
 JAMES BALL NAYLOR 
 
 8139427
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IT WAS a hot, sultry morning in the latter part of 
 August, 1811. 
 
 A dugout canoe containing two occupants was 
 swiftly speeding down the Scioto, at a point near 
 which the city of Columbus now stands. 
 
 The clear green water wimpled musically at the 
 bow of the vessel, and a frothy wake bubbled and 
 eddied at the stern. The surface of the stream lay 
 cool and dark in the shadow of the overhanging 
 trees ; but where the red rays of the rising sun shot 
 through the dense foliage and fell upon the pulse- 
 less bosom of the sluggish tide, they gave it the 
 metallic luster of burnished copper. Great trees 
 ranged themselves as stalwart sentinels along the 
 shores, a part of the grand army that stretched 
 away to the far distance ou either hand. Their 
 leaves were dark-green and glossy. Yellow and 
 purple wild flowers lifted their fair faces to the 
 morning sun and nodded a welcome. Feathered 
 songsters fluttered among the gray boughs and 
 chirped and warbled merrily. A venturesome fish 
 popped several feet out of the water just ahead of 
 
 (7)
 
 8 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the swiftly flying dugout and flashed its silver 
 scales in a tantalizing manner. 
 
 The occupants of the canoe gave little heed to the 
 beauties of the scene. Seated in the bottom of their 
 quivering, rocking craft, they rapidly and rhyth- 
 mically dipped their light paddles. At each stroke 
 the frail vessel lifted itself and sprang forward, like 
 a thing of life. The forest receded from the west- 
 ern bank of the river, and low-lying fields of tall, 
 rank corn took its place. Walled in by the growing 
 maize, lay the straggling village of Franklinton a 
 cluster of rude log-huts. Cleared spaces appeared 
 in the woods upon the eastern shore ; and several 
 cabins stood out against the background of encir- 
 cling trees the germ, the nucleus of the Capital 
 City of to-day. 
 
 The two paddlers looked neither to the right, nor 
 to the left, but laboriously bent to their work. Sud- 
 denly a man parted the bushes upon the western 
 shore and, stepping down to the water's edge, called 
 lustily : 
 
 ' ' Hello ! That you, Ross Douglas ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered the man in the stern of the 
 dugout. " What do you want? " 
 
 Both paddlers ceased their efforts and allowed the 
 craft to drift with the lazy current. 
 
 " W'y, y'r dog come to my cabin this mornin' 
 all wet an' draggled as though he'd swum the 
 river," returned the voice from the shore. "He 
 'peared to be tuckered out an' hungry an' went 
 whmin' 'round as if he was huntin' fer you. I fed
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 9 
 
 him, an' then tied him up in the cabin. Do you 
 want him ? " 
 
 The paddler in the bow of the canoe turned his 
 head and looked at his companion, at the same time 
 uttering a grunt of surprise and incredulity. 
 
 " You may keep him until I come back," called 
 the man who had answered to the name of Ross 
 Douglas, lifting his paddle and preparing to resume 
 his journey. 
 
 " Hold on there, Ross! " shouted the individual 
 on shore. ' ' What do you mean where 're you 
 goin' ? " 
 
 " Going to join General Harrison's army at Vin- 
 cennes." 
 
 And the suspended paddles dipped, and the dugout 
 leaped forward. 
 
 ' ' Stop, I say ! ' ' bellowed the man who had hailed 
 the voyagers, running along the shelving sands and 
 gesticulating wildly. "Ross Douglas, you ain't a 
 goin' to run off like that an' leave an ol' friend, 
 without shakiu' his paw an' biddin' him good-by 
 I'm danged if you are! Stop, 'r I'll send a 
 bullet spinnin' out there I will, by Sally Ma- 
 tildy!" 
 
 "But I'm in a hurry," Douglas laughed good- 
 humoredly. 
 
 " It don't make no differ' nee," persisted the 
 other. ' ' Come in here. ' ' 
 
 "Turn the prow toward shore, Bright Wing," 
 Douglas said in a low tone to his companion. 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' grunted the latter and obeyed.
 
 io THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 A few moments later the canoe beached itself and 
 the two paddlers sprang ashore. The one who had 
 occupied the bow of the craft was an Indian 
 young, lithe, and strong. His forehead was high 
 and narrow ; his nose, slightly aquiline. His eyes 
 were small, black, and piercing; his brawny chest and 
 muscular arms were bare. His straight, blue-black 
 hair braided and ornamented with beads and per- 
 forated shells and coins reached his waist. 
 Breeches, leggings, and moccasins of tanned buck- 
 skin constituted his dress. In his belt were toma- 
 hawk and scalping-knife ; and he carried a heavy 
 rifle. He belonged to the Wyandot tribe, and was 
 an adopted son of the noble chief, Leatherlips. 
 
 The Indian's companion was an American tall, 
 active, and sinewy. His complexion was swarthy ; 
 his steel-gray eyes were bold and keen. But the stern 
 oast they gave to his countenance was relieved by a 
 pair of smiling lips, indicating gentleness and great 
 good-nature. A mass of soft brown hair clustered 
 in short ringlets about his temples and rippled down 
 upon his broad shoulders. The well-fitting suit of 
 buckskin that he wore revealed the rounded contour 
 of his shapely limbs ; and the broad-brimmed soft 
 hat that surmounted his silky curls set off his dark 
 beauty to the best advantage. His weapons were 
 of the finest workmanship, and gave evidence of the 
 loving care their owner bestowed upon them. Ap- 
 parently he was about twenty-eight years old. 
 
 The man who had hailed the two voyagers and 
 whom they now stood facing was a typical back-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET n 
 
 woodsman of middle age. His face was oppres- 
 sively ugly prominent nose, wide mouth, and 
 pale-blue, watery eyes. His hair was scant and 
 straw-colored; his body and limbs, were long, lank, 
 and ungainly. His garb was in keeping with his 
 character hunting shirt and breeches of coarse 
 linsey-woolsey .heavy cowhide boots, and peaked fur- 
 cap. He was a grotesque, incongruous bundle of 
 bones and sinews a whimsical, eccentric hunter 
 and trapper. But a more valiant, loyal, and loving 
 heart, than Joe Farley had, never beat in man's 
 bosom. 
 
 Now he stood leaning upon his long rifle, a quiz- 
 zical smile illuminating his rugged features. 
 
 " What do you want, Joe? " Douglas demanded 
 briskly. 
 
 " Want to know where you're bound fer," came 
 the drawling reply. 
 
 " I told you to Vincennes, to join Harrison's 
 army," Ross answered, a shade of annoyance in 
 his tone. 
 
 " You don't mean it ? " 
 
 " But I do." 
 
 " Is the Injin goin', too ? " 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! Me go, too, ' ' said the rednian, drawing 
 himself up proudly. 
 
 "Seems to me it's goin'to be a strange sort o' war," 
 Farley chuckled dryly. " Injins an' white men on 
 one side an' white men an' Injins on t'other. 
 'Cause that's what it's comin' to. The danged 
 Britishers has got the' r fingers in the pie ag'in
 
 12 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 an' ther' ain't no tellin' where the thing '11 stop. 
 So, Bright Wing, you're goin' out to fight ag'in 
 your own people, are you? " 
 
 " Not my people," grunted the Indian, his black 
 eyes flashing. ' ' Me Wyandot me fight Shaw- 
 nees. " 
 
 " It don't make no differ'nce they've got red 
 skins," Joe remarked. 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! You much big fool ! ' ' 
 
 And the impulsive young warrior's hand involun- 
 tarily sought the handle of his tomahawk. 
 
 Farley's face flushed, and he cried sharply: 
 
 " Keep y'r hand off y'r hatchet, redskin. That's 
 a game two can play at. ' ' 
 
 Quickly Douglas stepped between the two and, 
 turning upon Farley, said sternly: 
 
 " Joe, you may not be a fool, but you're acting 
 the part of one, at any rate. You know as well 
 as I that the Wyandots are the friends of the 
 Americans, that the Shawnees are the allies of 
 the British. Of course, there are traitors in 
 both tribes ; but what I have stated is true in 
 the main. Bright Wing is my comrade your 
 friend. If you're a man, you'll beg his par- 
 don." 
 
 " An' that's jest what I'm goin' to do," Farley 
 shamefacedly muttered. " 'Pears that I'll never 
 git to understandin' In j ins. They're so danged 
 touchy. ' ' This in an aggrieved tone. ' ' But I had 
 no business to be tormentin' Bright Wing he's 
 a redskin with a white man's heart in his breast.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 13 
 
 Injiti, here's my hand. I didn't mean to hurt y'r 
 feelin's. " 
 
 ' ' All right me know, ' ' murmured Bright Wing 
 in guttural accents. 
 
 Then he moved aside and seated himself upon the 
 prow of the canoe. 
 
 "Now, Joe, we must be off," Ross began hur- 
 riedly. 
 
 " You mean what you've said you're goin' to 
 jine the army? " Farley interrupted. 
 
 Douglas nodded. 
 
 " Goin' to leave y'r land an' everything an' go off 
 to fight Injins an' Britishers, maybe?" 
 
 "The land will keep," Ross laughed. "Little 
 good it does me, at any rate. I have never cut a 
 stick of timber upon it." 
 
 "That's what I mean," replied the other ear- 
 nestly. ' ' You ort to stay an' clear it up an' 
 make a home of it. Quit y'r huntin' an' traipsin' 
 'round with such fellers as me an' Bright Wing, 
 an' settle down. It don't make much differ'nce 
 what /do. But you've got book learnin' an' good 
 sense. You're wastin' y'r time." 
 
 " I 'm well pleased with the life I lead, Joe." 
 
 " That's jest the trouble you're too well pleased 
 with it." 
 
 " I promise you I'll reform when I return." 
 
 "An' you're goin' away an' leave that little 
 sweetheart o' your'n ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' You mean Amy I/arkin ? ' ' 
 
 "Of course."
 
 14 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "Yes, I must leave her. But I shall be back 
 soon in a few months, perhaps. Then I'll 
 marry her and settle down become a model hus- 
 bandman. ' ' 
 
 " You're puttin' off till to-morrer what you ort 
 to do to-day." 
 
 " What do you mean, Joe? " 
 
 " You know oP man L,arkin don't like you none 
 too well jest on account o' y'r shiftless ways, 
 as he calls it ? " 
 
 ' ' I am aware that he doesn't look upon me as 
 a promising son-in-law yes." 
 
 " An' he does think a heap o' George Hilliard? " 
 
 "Y-e-s." 
 
 "Well, you won't be gone a month till George 
 Hilliard '11 be standin' in y'r shoes." 
 
 ' ' I have no fears on that score. ' ' 
 
 "All right! but you'll see. Gals is gals 
 they're all false an' fickle. A bird in the hand's 
 worth two in the bush, Ross. You'd better stay 
 here an' be gittin' a cage ready fer y'r bird. Ol' 
 Sam lyarkin's got a heap o' good land an' a heap 
 more money. He's rich. An' Amy's a purty nice 
 gal an' the only child. You don't want to let all 
 that slip through y'r fingers, my boy." 
 
 ' ' You're talking nonsense, Joe. Amy loves me 
 she don't care a fig for George Hilliard. I'll 
 marry her on my return, with or without 
 her father's consent. Hilliard is a Canadian an 
 English sympathizer. Mr. L,arkin will not forget 
 that. Besides, if we have another war with Great
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 15 
 
 Britain as appears likely this neighborhood 
 will become too warm for the forehanded George. 
 I care nothing for Amy's prospective fortune, but I 
 love her. And I'm going to marry her, no matter 
 who may oppose. ' ' 
 
 The young man's chest heaved, and defiance to 
 the whole world shone in his gray eyes. 
 
 "It's a good thing to have plenty o' grit an' con- 
 fidence," Farley chuckled; " but ther's a chance o' 
 havin' too much o' even a good thing I swan 
 ther' is ! An' lawzee ! Hain't I had the 'xperience? 
 Many's the purty, rosy-cheeked gals I could 'ave 
 got in my younger days. W'y, they used to tag 
 after me an' pester me 'most to death. I've had 
 more 'n a dozen of 'em dead in love with me at one 
 time fairly scratchin' each other's eyes out, 
 quar'lin' 'bout which one 'Id git me. All of 'em love- 
 sick over my beauty my purty form an' features. 
 But I jest stuck my nose up in the air an' passed 'em 
 by. An' see me to-day ! I'm an everlastin' warnin' 
 a livin' monument to disap'inted love an' dang- 
 nation foolishness. Ther' ain't a piece o' linsey- 
 woolsey in the whole settlement that '11 even look 
 Snakes an' garters ! What's that ? " 
 
 Both white men started. The Indian stolidly 
 maintained his position upon the prow of the canoe ; 
 but his ready finger rested upon the trigger of his 
 gun. A heavy body came crashing through the 
 weeds and bushes upon the bank. Then the vines 
 and branches parted ; and, with a hoarse yelp of joy, 
 a large dog sprang into the open and crouched at
 
 1 6 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Douglas's feet. He was a magnificent black-and- 
 tan animal, lithe and strong as a panther an im- 
 mense bloodhound. He was wet and muddy ; and 
 as. he lay at his master's feet, he rolled his red- 
 rimmed eyes and panted and whined. A piece of 
 thong was about his neck, to which was fastened 
 a short sharpened stake. 
 
 "Well, if that don't beat my reckonin' ! " bawled 
 Farley, opening his wide mouth and hawhawing 
 heartily. ' ' How in the name o' ' Julius Csesar did 
 that dog ever git loose ? That stake was druv in the 
 hard floor o' my shack, deep enough to hold a bull 
 it was, by the Queen o' Sheba ! An' he's pulled 
 it up. But how in the plague did he git out o' the 
 cabin? Must 'ave crawled up the chimbly by 
 cracky ! 'Cause I latched the door as I come out 
 I'm certain of it. Dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! But 
 it does beat all ! " 
 
 The dog now attempted to raise his head and lick 
 his master's hand. Failing in this, he slowly arose 
 to his feet, tremulously wagged his tail, and be- 
 seechingly fastened his eyes upon Ross's face. Then 
 he whined. 
 
 " Down, Duke !" Douglas commanded sternly. 
 
 The dog obeyed; but rolled his great eyes up- 
 ward toward the being he loved and worshiped, as 
 though begging pardon for his misconduct. 
 
 " Joe, I want you to take him back to your cabin 
 and keep him until I return. I tried to run away 
 from him this morning, but he has trailed me 
 although I traveled by water. I left him at the
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 17 
 
 Wyaudot village above here. Take him away, Joe ; 
 I can't bear to leave while he's looking at me like 
 that." 
 
 And there was a quaver in Ross Douglas's 
 voice. 
 
 "Duke him much good dog him heap big 
 brave," volunteered Bright Wing, nodding vigor- 
 ously. 
 
 " Quick, Joe take him away," Ross said hus- 
 kily. 
 
 "I ain't a-goin' to do it," replied Farley, with a 
 stubborn shake of the head. 
 
 ' ' Why ? ' ' Ross inquired in surprise. 
 
 " ' Cause the dog loves you an' ort to go with 
 you that's why. He'll jest natur'ly pine away 
 an' die if you leave him behind you." 
 
 "But I can't take him with me," Douglas ar- 
 gued ; "he would be in the way he would get 
 himself and me into trouble. ' ' 
 
 " Ther's another reason why I won't take him 
 back to my cabin," Joe remarked, his pale eyes 
 twinkling. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Jest this: If you're goin' to war, I'm goin' 
 with you. I hain't got a chick n'r child to leave 
 an' I'm goin'." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "With Bright Wing and me ? " 
 
 " Fer sure." 
 
 ' ' I thought you were opposed to my going ? ' ' 
 
 2
 
 1 8 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " I was -'an' I am yit. But if you go, I go, too." 
 
 " Perhaps we don't desire your company." 
 
 A smile fluttered about the corners of Ross's 
 mouth. 
 
 " It don't make no differ'nce," was the dogged 
 reply; "I'm goin' anyhow. So move y'r things 
 'round in the dugout an' make room fer us. I'm 
 all ready. Ding-it-all-to-dangnation ! I can't stay 
 here an' see you go an' I won't" 
 
 "Shall we take him, Bright Wing?" Douglas 
 mischievously inquired. 
 
 "Ugh!" exploded the Indian. "Joe him got 
 heap long gun him shoot much straight. Him 
 go. Three braves kill sight more bad Shawnees 
 than two. Joe go." 
 
 " Very well," Ross said slowly, with assumed re- 
 luctance in his tone, ' ' you shall go, Joe. Is there 
 anything you want to bring from your hut ? " 
 
 " Nothin'." With a decided shake of the head. 
 
 " In you go, then and let's be off." 
 
 A few minutes later there were " three men in 
 the boat not counting the dog, " and they were 
 moving rapidly down the stream, in the shade of 
 the overhanging trees. When some two or three 
 miles below the village of Franklinton, Douglas ad- 
 dressed a few words in the Wyandot tongue, to the 
 Indian, who again occupied the bow of the canoe. 
 Bright Wing nodded and immediately turned the 
 prow toward a little cove upon the eastern shore. 
 A moment later the boat grated upon the sandy 
 beach, and Ross sprang ashore.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 19 
 
 "Keep Duke with you," he cried as he ran 
 lightly up the bank. "I'll not be gone long." 
 
 ' ' Say ! wher' you goin' now ? ' ' Farley called 
 after him. But the young man did not deign to re- 
 ply. 
 
 " I was a fool to ask the question," Joe muttered 
 to himself. " Might 'ave knowed he was goin' to 
 bid his sweetheart good-by. I jest f ergot fer a 
 minute we was opposite to ol' Sam L,arkin's place. 
 Down, Duke, an' behave y'rself. Y'r master don't 
 need you in this affair. Oh, jeminy no ! Two's 
 company an' three's a congregation, when it comes 
 to love-makin' . Hain't I been through it, hey? 
 Gol-fer-ginger ! What a heart-breaker I was ! S'pect 
 I'll never git fergiveness fer the way I've used the 
 women. Dang-it-all-to-dinguation ! Wen a man 
 begins to git old, his youthful sins an* follies all 
 comes back to him. Mine ha'nts me o' nights till 
 I can't sleep. An' I can't eat, neither. First thing 
 I know I'll worry an' fret over the cruel way I've 
 used the women folks, till my beauty '11 begin to fade 
 an' like as not peter out entirely. An' I wouldn't 
 'ave that happen fer nothin'. Gol-fer-socks no I 
 Say, Injin, 'ave you got any tobacker ? " 
 
 Without a word Bright Wing opened the pouch 
 at his side and gave the lugubrious Farley a hand- 
 ful of tobacco. The latter filled his short-stemmed 
 pipe, lighted it, and puffed away in silence for some 
 time. 
 
 The bloodhound lay watching the place where 
 his master had disappeared. Presently he half
 
 20 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 arose, shook his pendulous ears and growled omi- 
 nously. Then, ere he could be restrained, he 
 leaped from the canoe and dashed up the bank, into 
 the woods. With an exclamation of surprise and 
 anger, Joe stumbled ashore and set out in pursuit of 
 the dog, closely followed by Bright Wing. 
 
 On leaving his friends, Ross Douglas entered the 
 forest and hurried along a dim path, until he 
 reached the edge of a clearing a few hundred yards 
 from the river. In the center of this cleared space, 
 and upon a slight elevation of ground, stood a 
 double log-cabin with a hall or passage between the 
 two rooms. The house stood facing the river; and 
 the doors and windows were open. Back of the 
 building was a field of corn surrounded by a fence 
 of brush and poles, and in front of it lay a small 
 patch of potatoes and garden vegetables. 
 
 Ross shaded his eyes with his hand and looked 
 from his cool retreat, across the sun-baked clearing, 
 toward the cabin. Presently a face appeared at one 
 of the small windows. Douglas stepped forward 
 and beckoned. Then he hastily sprang back among 
 the trees. The face quickly disappeared from the 
 window ; and a few seconds later a young woman 
 emerged from the door and tripped nimbly down 
 the path leading to the fringe of woodland along the 
 river-shore. She was neatly clad. Her frock was 
 of linsey-woolsey; her shoes were of calfskin. A 
 wide-brimmed straw hat set jauntily upon her brown 
 hair added to the piquancy of her fair oval face. 
 Her cheeks were rosy; her teeth, white, and even.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 21 
 
 Entering the wood she called softly: 
 
 ' ' Ross, where are you ? " 
 
 "Here, Amy," he answered in a low joyful tone, 
 stepping from his place of concealment and hurry- 
 ing toward her. 
 
 With a glad cry she sprang into his outstretched 
 arms, and hid her blushing face upon his shoulder. 
 For a full minute he strained her to his breast, and 
 neither spoke. When at last she raised her face it 
 was wet with tears ; and a catch was in her voice 
 as she said: 
 
 ' ' And you are going, Ross ? ' ' 
 
 "I must go, darling," he replied softly. 
 
 " Why must you go and leave me here alone?" 
 she cried. "Why must you run into danger, 
 Ross ? Stay here with me please do ! You may 
 never come back. ' ' 
 
 " There there, little one!" he whispered sooth- 
 ingly. " Of course, I shall come back. Then we'll 
 be married; and I'll settle down on my piece of 
 land and never leave you again." 
 
 "But you may may get killed," she sobbed. 
 
 ' ' I must take my chances along with others, 
 Amy," he answered firmly. "I feel that it's my 
 duty to go." 
 
 "I I can't understand " she began. 
 
 " It's like this," he interrupted as he seated her 
 upon a mossy log and placed his arm around her 
 waist. ' ' Seventeen years ago when you were a 
 baby General Wayne made a treaty with the In- 
 dian tribes at Greenville. That treaty has protected
 
 22 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the border-settlements until now. The savages 
 have kept to themselves and left the white settlers 
 unmolested. And the vanguard of civilization has 
 moved rapidly and steadily toward the setting sun. 
 But now all is changed. The British are again en- 
 couraging the Indians to take up arms against the 
 Americans. Tecumseh and his brother, the 
 Prophet, are doing all in their power to form an 
 Indian confederacy that will be able to drive the 
 Americans from the Ohio and Mississippi valleys. 
 Tecumseh is brave and ambitious ; the Prophet, 
 cruel and cunning. Already they have aroused the 
 redmen to a pitch of frenzy that threatens the 
 safety of every border-settlement including this. 
 General Harrison is forming an army at Vincennes, 
 to march against the allied tribes. I know the 
 woods am acquainted with the Indian mode of 
 warfare. I can render service to my country my 
 people. I must go, Amy." 
 
 She had dried her tears. Now she kissed him 
 and said coaxingly : 
 
 "Please please don't go! Stay here and 
 and marry me now. ' ' 
 
 "You little siren you little traitor!" he 
 laughed, playfully patting her cheek. " With your 
 enchantment you would win me from the path of 
 duty. You tempt me sorely but it may not be. 
 Duty calls " 
 
 "Oh, duty duty!" she cried, impatiently 
 stamping her small foot and pouting her red lips. 
 " Do you care more for duty than you do for me?"
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 23 
 
 " That's not fair, Amy," he said gravely. "You 
 know that I love you dearly better than I love 
 anyone else in the wide world. You should be a 
 brave little woman and help me to do the right. 
 Besides, if I should play the poltroon and stay 
 here, you yourself would despise me for a miserable 
 coward a mean wretch unworthy of a good wom- 
 an's love and respect." 
 
 He stopped to note the effect of his words. She 
 hung her head and blushed deeply. But whether 
 with shame or anger he could not tell. He waited for 
 her to speak ; but she said nothing. He continued : 
 
 "At any rate, your father wouldn't consent to 
 our marriage, and you wouldn't be willing to wed 
 me without his permission." 
 
 The young woman lifted her head. Her face 
 brightened. Laying her hand caressingly upon his 
 knee, she murmured faintly : 
 
 "Father wouldn't oppose our marriage, Ross, 
 if you would quit your roving ways, give up your 
 Indian friends and rough associates, and settle down 
 to work. He thinks you shiftless that you 
 wouldn't provide well for me would never accu- 
 mulate anything." 
 
 Douglas's handsome face flushed hotly as he asked: 
 
 ' ' Is that all the reason your father had for order- 
 ing me from his door and forbidding me to speak 
 to you ? ' ' 
 
 She was silent for a moment. Then she replied 
 hesitatingly : 
 
 " Y-e-s the main reason."
 
 24 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "And the others?" 
 
 His voice was hard and cold. She dropped her 
 lids, but did not answer. 
 
 "Amy, tell me," he cried almost fiercely, catch- 
 ing her wrist in his firm grasp. 
 
 ' ' He says you you don't know who your 
 father was, ' ' she faltered. 
 
 He sprang to his feet, his face aflame. 
 
 " It's a base lie! " he began. Then he set his 
 teeth and paused a moment to regain control of 
 himself. Presently he resumed in quiet, even tones : 
 
 ' ' Amy, it's a mistake. I know who my father 
 was or is, if he be alive. I'm no illegitimate 
 child. My mother's husband was John Douglas, 
 an intelligent but dissipated and unprincipled man, 
 who abused her and finally deserted her, shortly 
 after I was born. Her health rapidly failed ; and 
 she died when I was but a child, leaving me to the 
 care of her brother, a roving and adventurous fur- 
 trader. This uncle wandered from tribe to tribe, 
 bartering arms, blankets, and trinkets, for peltries. 
 On one of these trading trips he took me with him 
 when I was eight years old and left me with 
 the Wyandots, while he proceeded on his journey. 
 For four years I remained with the savages. They 
 were kind to me. I learned their ways ; I played 
 with the youth of the tribe. I absorbed their ideas, 
 manners, and customs I fell in love with the wild, 
 free life of the redmen. Then my uncle again put 
 in an appearance, and, taking me with him, re- 
 turned to the East.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 25 
 
 " There he placed me in school; and again disap- 
 peared. Eight years passed ; and in all that time I 
 saw nothing of my relative my guardian. At last 
 came word that he was dead and that I was pen- 
 niless. I left school. My soul hungered for love 
 and sympathy. I was fatherless motherless. Of 
 acquaintances, I had many; of warm, helpful friends, 
 I had none. I thought of my old friends, the Wy- 
 andots. I made my way westward, rejoined them 
 and was received with open arms. But a change 
 had come over me. I had the instinct and tastes of 
 a hunter but I was no longer a young savage. 
 For a time I lived with the Wyandots ; but I spent 
 my time in hunting and in trading among the red 
 hunters of Ohio and the lakes. I made money. I 
 learned three or four Indian tongues I acquainted 
 myself with all the arts and wiles of the different 
 tribes. But at last the white blood in my veins as- 
 serted itself. I began to long for the companion- 
 ship of my own people. So I established myself 
 here at Franklinton and took up land. But I have 
 continued to trade among the Indians I have re- 
 tained the friendship of the Wyandots. I have 
 made more money in one month than your father 
 and George Hilliard have made in twelve. A year 
 ago I met and loved you. It's needless to say 
 more you know the rest. ' ' 
 
 She had been watching his face intently and 
 drinking in every word he said. Now she clasped 
 her hands and murmured pleadingly : 
 
 ' ' Oh, Ross ! If only you will tell father what
 
 26 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 you have told me, all will be well. He'll give 
 his consent to our marriage I know he will. ' ' 
 
 " As soon as I return, I'll do so, Amy." 
 
 " No no !" she pouted prettily. " Now is the 
 time. Come to the house with me at once." 
 
 "I cannot, dear. Be patient a little while. As 
 you say all will be well." 
 
 Quickly arising to her feet and catching him by 
 the arm, she cried playfully : 
 
 ' ' You shall not go. See I'll hold you. ' ' 
 
 He bent and kissed her. Then slipping his arm 
 around her yielding waist he remarked : 
 
 " Amy, there is another reason why I should go 
 to fight against the allied tribes. Leatherlips, the 
 foster-father of Bright Wing, was one of my stead- 
 fast friends. As you know, he was brutally mur- 
 dered a year ago last June, at the instigation of the 
 Shawnee Prophet. His death should be avenged. ' ' 
 
 A startled look crept into her eyes, and involun- 
 tarily she shrunk from him as she whispered trem- 
 ulously: 
 
 "Ross Ross! Surely you don't mean to do 
 murder! You're not an Indian. I'm almost afraid 
 of you." 
 
 With a merry laugh he caught her to him and 
 answered : 
 
 "What a timid little body you are, Amy. Of 
 course I don't mean to do murder. But I do 
 mean that the Prophet shall be shorn of his power 
 to do further mischief, to commit further acts of 
 violence and that I should help to do it.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 27 
 
 And" in a low, fierce tone "if ever I meet 
 him in open battle one of us will die. Bid me good- 
 by now. I must be going my comrades are 
 waiting for me. ' ' 
 
 But she burst into tears and clung to him, sob- 
 bing : 
 
 "Don't go don't go, Ross! For some reason 
 I feel that you will not come back to me, that 
 I shall shall be forced to to marry George Hil- 
 liard." 
 
 ' ' There there, child ! " he interrupted sooth- 
 ingly. " Now dry your eyes and kiss me farewell. 
 Indeed I am tarrying too long." 
 
 She drew herself erect and, dashing aside the 
 tears that blinded her, said icily : 
 
 "In spite of all I have said and done, you're 
 going, are you? " 
 
 "I Ve told you over and over that I must go, 
 Amy," he replied sadly. 
 
 " Then go ! " she cried angrily. " It shows how 
 much you think of me to leave me here in a hell 
 upon earth without a mother to sympathize with 
 me or advise me. I will marry George Hilliard at 
 once and have done with it. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Amy ! Amy ! " he whispered reprovingly. ' ' You 
 don't mean that; you're angry. Wait " 
 
 The sentence was left unfinished. It was cut 
 short with a suddenness that almost took away 
 Douglas's breath. By an unseen and unexpected 
 power, the lovers were caught and violently flung 
 apart. Two armed men stood between them. One
 
 28 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 was a tall, rawboned man whose hatchet face was 
 outlined by a mane of iron-gray hair. The other 
 was younger short, thickset, and red-faced. 
 
 The older man's countenance was livid with rage. 
 His lips worked but no words came forth. At 
 last he managed to articulate : 
 
 " Git off my land instantly, Ross Douglas you 
 infernal sneak an' scoundrel ! Tryin' to steal my 
 daughter, was you? There's no man about you! 
 Didn't I order you from the place an' forbid you 
 speakin' to her ? Go, I say ! Go before I shoot you 
 you sneakin' dog ! " 
 
 A dangerous light blazed in the settler's eye's. 
 He gripped his gun and shook it menacingly at 
 Douglas. The latter was unarmed except the 
 hunting-knife in his belt having left his rifle in 
 the canoe. However, he composedly folded his 
 arms and casting a pitying glance at Amy, who had 
 dropped to the ground and was weeping bitterly, 
 said quietly : 
 
 " Mr. Larkin, I don't merit the harsh words 
 and rude treatment you have accorded me. I have 
 done nothing dishonorable nothing beneath the 
 dignity of a gentleman. I love your daughter; 
 she loves me. When you ordered me from your 
 house and forbid me to hold further intercourse 
 with Amy, I told you that I wouldn't obey your 
 mandate that I would meet her clandestinely. I 
 have done so. Just now I came to bid her good-by. 
 I'm on my way to join Harrison's army at Vin- 
 cennes. When I return I'll call upon you and
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 29 
 
 ask you for her hand in marriage. If at that time 
 you refuse my request, I'll carry her off before 
 your eyes." 
 
 " You impudent hound ! " snorted the irate Lar- 
 kin. "I have a notion to shoot you where you 
 stand." 
 
 "Have a care, Mr. I,arkin," Douglas replied 
 coolly. " I don't care to have a physical encoun- 
 ter with my future father-in-law. But if you offer 
 me violence, your gray hairs will not save you, 
 I warn you. I have no fear of you or your weapon. 
 But I'm trespassing, and will leave your place 
 and your presence." 
 
 Ross's cool assurance awed Larkin to silence. A 
 moment he looked at the young man in utter 
 amazement. Then he turned and bent over his 
 daughter and, lifting her to her feet, cried roughly : 
 
 " Come, my young lady, an' go to the house with 
 me. I'll see to it that you don't meet that scala- 
 wag ag'in." 
 
 " Good-by, Amy," Ross called as he turned to 
 leave the spot. 
 
 " Good-by, Ross," she sobbed faintly. " I didn't 
 mean what I said. I'll I'll be true " 
 
 But her father clapped his hand over her mouth 
 and shouted over his shoulder : 
 
 "George Hilliard, why don't you break every 
 bone in that insolent scoundrel's body ? " 
 
 Up to this time the thickset man had maintained 
 a discreet silence. Now he felt called upon to 
 defend himself against the imputation of cowardice,
 
 30 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 implied in parkin's question. So he replied 
 valiantly : 
 
 "That's just what I'm going to do if he don't 
 make himself scarce around here iu about ten 
 seconds. ' ' 
 
 These words fell upon Ross Douglas's ears and 
 roused him to instant fury. He had borne much 
 he could bear no more. Whirling in his tracks, he 
 dealt Hilliard a blow that felled him to the earth. 
 
 For a few seconds the prostrate man glared con- 
 fusedly around him. Then with cat-like quickness 
 he sprang to his feet and threw his gun to his 
 shoulder. He was insane with rage. The light of 
 murder twinkled in his small pig-like eyes. His 
 finger was upon the trigger of his weapon. But he 
 encountered Ross's look of steadfast courage and 
 hesitated. 
 
 "Shoot him!" parkin bellowed. "Shoot him 
 in self-defense ! " 
 
 Hilliard bent his head and squinted along the 
 gleaming barrel of his rifle. Douglas whipped out 
 his knife and sprang toward his adversary. But 
 quick as were his movements, he would have been 
 too late had not a trusty friend been at hand. 
 
 With a low, fierce growl Duke bounded from the 
 underbrush, where he had been crouching, and 
 landed full upon Hilliard' s chest. The gun 
 cracked, but the bullet sped harmlessly over Ross's 
 head. Amy ran screaming toward the cabin. Her 
 father, with a muttered oath, strode toward the 
 scene of conflict. Duke sought to fasten his fangs
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 31 
 
 in Hilliard's throat. Gun, man, and dog went to 
 the ground together. 
 
 "Loose him, Duke! Loose him!" Douglas 
 commanded. 
 
 The hound obeyed, and crept whining to his 
 master's feet. Blood was streaming from Hilliard's 
 shoulder, where the dog had set his teeth. 
 
 " Curse you ! I'll finish you ! " Larkin shrieked 
 frantically, flinging his piece to his shoulder and 
 taking deliberate aim at Ross. 
 
 "Go slow there, ol' man, 'r you'll never know 
 what hurt you," said a drawling voice. "Drop 
 that gun an' behave y'rself, 'r I'll put a chunk o' 
 cold lead into you I will, by Hanner Ann ! " 
 
 And two shimmering gun-barrels protruded 
 from the green foliage. 
 
 Larkin obeyed, and leaned against a sapling, 
 panting. With some difficulty Hilliard got upon 
 his feet. His flabby face was pale ; his hairy 
 hands were trembling. 
 
 Farley and Bright Wing stepped into the glade. 
 
 " Mr. Larkin," Douglas remarked calmly, "I'm 
 very sorry this occurred. You'd better take your 
 comrade to the house and dress his wounds. I'm 
 off." 
 
 Followed by his two friends and his dog, the 
 young man silently made his way back to the 
 canoe. A few minutes later they were rapidly 
 paddling down the stream. 
 
 The day was excessively hot. The three men 
 maintained a moody silence, as with steady, sweep-
 
 32 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ing strokes they shot the dugout forward. The 
 sweat trickled in rivulets down Farley's furrowed 
 face. Presently he muttered in an undertone : 
 
 " S'pect I'd 'ave done better, if I'd shot that cuss 
 of a Hilliard yes, an' ol' Sam L,arkin, too. 
 They deserved to die anyway the dirty cowards ! 
 An' they'll make no end o' bother fer Ross 'r 
 I'm badly mistaken. An' they'll torment that lit- 
 tle gal to death, purty near. I can see it all. 
 Ther's trouble ahead fer somebody an' likely it's 
 fer Ross Douglas. Well, it all comes o' fallin' in 
 love with a few pounds o' the female gender. An' 
 hain't I had the 'xperience? L,ordy ! I should say 
 sol"
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AWAGON-and-pack-train was slowly winding its 
 way through the trackless wilds of the valley 
 of the Wabash. Like some monstrous ser- 
 pent, it dragged its sinuous body along the margin 
 of the boundless prairie that stretched away to the 
 north and west, and wormed itself in and out 
 among the clumps of scrubby trees that marked the 
 course of the stream. Ahead of it rode a compact 
 body of mounted men ; and on both sides and 
 behind, marched a straggling mass of soldiers. 
 
 The wheels of the heavily laden vehicles half 
 buried themselves in the soft loam of the valley. 
 ' ' Squeak ! Creak ! ' ' were the tortured cries of the 
 wooden axles. Whips cracked and drivers swore ; 
 horses neighed and oxen bellowed. William Henry 
 Harrison, governor of Indiana Territory, was on 
 his way to the Prophet's Town, to make peace or 
 war with its inhabitants. 
 
 It was the fifth of November, 1811 ; and the 
 sunless day was drawing to a close. The wind, 
 biting and keen, swept across the prairie from the 
 northwest, bringing with it driving clouds of mist- 
 like rain and stinging snow-pellets. The officers 
 and mounted men buttoned their coats closely 
 about them and, dropping their chins upon their 
 3 (33)
 
 34 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 breasts, rode forward in silence. The weary sol- 
 diers laboriously trudged onward and grumbled. 
 The veiled sun sank lower and lower in the west. 
 The wind, increasing in force, grew colder. Dark 
 shadows stole out of the scrub and threw them- 
 selves across the prairie. Night was settling down. 
 
 All through the summer and fall, the heterogene- 
 ous band of Indians at the Prophet's Town upon 
 the Upper Wabash had increased in numbers. Bold 
 and savage warriors from various tribes prompted 
 by the words and example of the eloquent and 
 sagacious Tecumseh, and inspired by the fanatical 
 zeal of the cunning and bloodthirsty Prophet 
 had taken up the hatchet and expressed a readiness 
 to make war upon the Americans. Aided and 
 abetted by the British who still manifested a 
 rancorous hostility toward the United States they 
 had made petty incursions into the defenseless 
 settlements, bent on pillage and murder. 
 
 For several years the wily leader of the warlike 
 Shawnees, Tecumseh, had been visiting the tribes 
 of the north, west, and south, urging them to form 
 a confederacy that would be powerful enough to 
 eject the Americans from the Mississippi and Ohio 
 valleys. He was a brave, resolute, and ambitious 
 man ; and had faith in the feasibility and success of 
 his project. 
 
 Harrison, as governor of Indiana Territory, had 
 become aware of Tecumseh's scheme and had 
 realized the great danger that threatened the 
 growing but unprotected settlements, and had
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 35 
 
 taken prompt measures. Empowered by his com- 
 mission, he had held a council with Tecumseh 
 and a number of his followers, at Vincennes, in 
 1810. But the haughty Shawnee had retired from 
 the governor's presence, angry and defiant. Then 
 Harrison had apprised the government at Philadel- 
 phia of the state of affairs and had asked for aid. 
 The Fourth regiment of regulars, under Colonel 
 Boyd, had been sent to him. And with these 
 troops and several companies of Kentucky and 
 Indiana militia nine hundred men in all he had 
 left Vincennes, on the twenty-eighth of September, 
 and taken up his march for the Prophet's Town, 
 resolved to make a lasting peace or strike a telling 
 blow, while Tecumseh was absent on a mission to 
 the southern tribes. 
 
 About seventy miles up the Wabash he had built 
 Fort Harrison. Then, on the twenty-ninth of 
 October, he had left the place garrisoned, and had 
 resumed his journey toward the Prophet's Town. 
 
 He was now moving along the northwestern 
 bank of the Wabash, a short distance from the 
 village he sought. 
 
 The long line of vehicles and troops came to a 
 sudden stop. Tired horses lowered their heads to 
 the cutting blast and shivered. Weary oxen leaned 
 heavily against the wagon-tongues. Footsore sol- 
 diers threw themselves upon the damp ground and 
 feelingly rubbed their aching limbs. Drivers 
 stamped their feet and slapped their palms to- 
 gether to restore the circulation to their benumbed
 
 36 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 members. Far down toward the rear of the line, a 
 militiaman was singing : 
 
 "I left my home in ol' Kaintuck, 
 An' my wife an' babes behind me; 
 An' if the Injins gits my scalp, 
 My folks '11 never find me." 
 
 "An' by the everlastin' Kinnikinnick, I don't 
 b'lieve his fam'ly 'Id grieve much 'bout him, if 
 he's in the habit o' singin' that tune 'round 
 home ! ' ' growled a tall angular ox-driver, resting 
 his arm upon the yoke and whipping the water 
 from his fur-cap, with the butt of his gad. ' ' Did 
 anybody on earth ever hear such a dang cater- 
 waullin' ? Whew, but I'm cold an' hungry ! 
 
 " Drivin' oxen ain't to my likin' not, by a 
 dang sight ! But here I am doin' menial servitude 
 fer my country, when I never disgraced myself by 
 doin' anything o' the kind fer Joe Farley. 'Pears 
 that I've become the plaything o' fate it does, by 
 Melindy ! Come out here to fight Injins an' help 
 save the gover'ment ; an' they've set me to 
 whackin' bulls. By my gran'mother's goggles, I 
 ain't a-goin' to stand it ! I'll desert an' go over to 
 the redskins, bag an' baggage ! 'Tain't fair 
 'tain't. Jest 'cause a driver gits sick an' has to be 
 left at Fort Harrison, they take an' put me in his 
 place. I ort to be out scoutin' with Ross 
 Douglas an' Bright Wing. An' I would 'ave been 
 dang it ! but my limber tongue got the best o' 
 me an' let out that I'd druv oxen, w'en a boy.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 37 
 
 "Well, ther's one consolation, anyhow. We're 
 purty near to the end o' our journey ; an' then I'll 
 git to tote a rifle ag'in an' feel like a man. Whoa, 
 there, you brindle-hided brute ! What in the dang- 
 uation 're you tryin' to do? Think you can crawl 
 through that bow ? Whoa, I say ! Bless my peep- 
 ers, if I ever did see such a c'ntrary critter, any- 
 how ! Whoa, now ! ' ' 
 
 And Farley applied the gad to the ribs of the 
 lank ox, as though he were energetically beating a 
 bass drum. 
 
 At the head of the long column, a little knot of 
 mounted officers were holding a consultation in low 
 tones. The central figure of the group was a tall, 
 spare man of middle age. He sat his horse a 
 wiry chestnut sorrel of trim form and slender limbs 
 with the ease and grace of a practiced and fear- 
 less horseman. His nose was large ; his smooth- 
 shaven features were irregular. But his face was 
 redeemed from plainness by a pair of dark, penetra- 
 ting eyes and a mouth indicative of courage and 
 resolution. Intelligence and benevolence beamed 
 from his rugged countenance. He wore the uni- 
 form of the United States army ; and his arms con- 
 sisted of a brace of pistols and a sword. 
 
 Shaking the rain-drops from his military cocked 
 hat, he replaced it atop his dark wavy hair and 
 remarked : 
 
 "I'm loath to camp here especially as none of 
 the scouts have returned to inform us of the de- 
 signs and movements of the enemy. We are near-
 
 38 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ing the hostile village, I'm certain. It can't be 
 many miles away. Here we have the open plain on 
 three sides of us. We should be unprotected from 
 a surprise ; and as you well know, Colonel Boyd, a 
 surprise is what we have to fear a surprise in the 
 early morning when the troops are soundly sleep- 
 ing. I would prefer a more sheltered place. And 
 it gives me some concern, that none of the scouts 
 have yet returned. I can't understand it." 
 
 "May I offer a suggestion, governor? " asked 
 the man addressed as Colonel Boyd, gracefully 
 saluting his superior officer. 
 
 ' ' Certainly. ' ' And Governor Harrison bowed 
 low over the pommel of his saddle. 
 
 ' ' Then, this is what I would suggest : That we 
 form a semi-circular barricade of our wagons, and 
 encamp under their cover. Also, that we double 
 the usual number of our sentries. I like the site 
 no better than you do, but men and teams are ex- 
 hausted and we can go no farther. We must 
 make the best of it." 
 
 "Very well," Harrison answered decidedly. "I 
 don't like the plan. But perhaps extra vigilance 
 will save us from a night-attack ; that is, if the 
 Indians be in the vicinity which we do not know. 
 Give the command, colonel. The men are im- 
 patient." 
 
 This order the governor addressed to Colonel 
 Owen, one of his aids. The officer whirled his 
 horse and dashed away. At that moment two men, 
 followed by a large dog, emerged from the fringe
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 39 
 
 of woodland, and with rapid strides approached 
 the group of officers. 
 
 "Whom have we here?" muttered Harrison, 
 straining his eyes through the semi-gloom. "Ah ! 
 scouts. Now we shall know something positive of 
 the savages." 
 
 As the two shadowy figures drew near, the gov- 
 ernor spurred forward to meet them. The other 
 officers followed his example ; and soon the two 
 scouts were surrounded by a ring of jingling spurs 
 and rattling scabbards. One of the newcomers 
 stopped suddenly and looked hurriedly about him, 
 as though seeking a chance to escape. The other 
 advanced boldly until he stood at the commander's 
 side. Then he lifted his hat and announced with 
 quiet dignity : 
 
 ' ' Governor, I have the honor to inform you that 
 my companion and myself have performed our mis- 
 sion, and are ready to report." 
 
 "Who are you?" inquired the commander, 
 bending forward and peering into the speaker's 
 face. 
 
 ' ' Ross Douglas a scout in your service. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, to be sure," Harrison answered. "I 
 should have known you from your manner. But 
 the darkness bothered me. And your compan- 
 ion?" 
 
 "Bright Wing, the Wyandot." 
 
 " I am ready to receive your report." 
 
 "Here?" 
 
 ' ' Yes and at once, ' '
 
 40 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "We went up the valley as you directed. We 
 continued our course until we came in sight of the 
 Prophet's Town " 
 
 "You are sure that you made no mistake that 
 you saw the Prophet's Town?" Harrison inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 "We made no mistake," Douglas replied a little 
 stiffly. 
 
 Without heeding the young scout's tone or man- 
 ner, the governor continued : 
 
 ' ' And how far are we from it ? " 
 
 " About ten miles." 
 
 ' ' Did you encounter any savages ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' A few when we were within a short distance 
 of the place." 
 
 "You saw no large body of Indians nothing 
 like a war-party?'" 
 
 "None." 
 
 ' ' How did those you saw deport themselves ? ' ' 
 
 "They fled." 
 
 ' ' In the direction of their village ? ' ' 
 
 "They did." 
 
 " In what language did you address them? " 
 
 "We tried several different Indian tongues." 
 
 ' ' Judging from what you know of Indian char- 
 acter, and what you have seen to-day, Douglas, do 
 you think the savages desire peace or war ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' War, ' ' Ross answered promptly and emphatic- 
 ally. 
 
 "The reasons for your opinion, if you please," 
 the commander said quietly.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 41 
 
 " Had they desired peace," was the quick reply, 
 ' ' a deputation of their chiefs headed by the 
 Prophet himself would have met you ere this. 
 They have been aware of your coming. They 
 mean to give you battle. ' ' 
 
 Several of the officers nodded their heads in ac- 
 quiescence of the opinion expressed, but the gov- 
 ernor murmured in a low. musing tone : 
 
 "You may be right, Douglas; but I can hardly 
 believe that you are." 
 
 Then huskily, a shade of alarm in his voice : 
 
 "You don't think they will attack us here 
 under cover of the darkness ? ' ' 
 
 "I do not." 
 
 "Very well. I believe that's all. Call at my 
 tent early in the morning. I want you and the 
 Wyandot to act as interpreters, as we approach the 
 town. But why doesn't he come forward why 
 does he stand off by himself ? ' ' 
 
 "He is an Indian," Ross answered simply. 
 
 Smiling at the reply he had received, the gov- 
 ernor turned and rode away in the gathering dark- 
 ness, accompanied by his staff. 
 
 " Bright Wing," Douglas called. 
 
 " Ugh ! Me here," the Wyandot answered, glid- 
 ing to his friend's side. 
 
 "Where is Duke? " Ross asked, glancing around. 
 
 " Duke him gone hunt meat him big heap hun- 
 gry dog," was the guttural reply. 
 
 "Well, I'm big heap hungry myself," Douglas 
 laughed as he shifted his gun from one shoulder to
 
 42 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the other. ' ' Come ; let's find Joe and have some 
 supper." 
 
 By this time the wagons had been arranged in a 
 semicircle inclosing several acres of prairie. Sol- 
 diers were busy erecting tents and lighting camp- 
 fires. Teamsters were watering their jaded beasts 
 at the river and feeding them in the inclosure. 
 The two scouts threaded their way among the mass 
 of men and animals, until they reached the farther 
 end of the area. 
 
 There Farley had picketed his two yoke of oxen, 
 and, assisted by a number of militiamen, was unload- 
 ing his vehicle. Their camp-fire blazed and crackled 
 cheerily ; and about it a half-dozen soldiers were 
 preparing to cook their evening meal. As Douglas 
 and Bright Wing drew near they heard Joe say- 
 ing whimsically : 
 
 "Go 'way, Duke, an' behave y'rself. Have 
 some manners, an' wait till y'r victuals is cooked. 
 Drat it all, I never did see such a hungry dog ! 
 I've give him 'bout two pound o' raw meat, an' 
 he's lickin' his chops fer more. By cracky ! If he 
 gits much hungrier, hell eat me an' the oxen. 
 Git out o' the road, you rascal, 'r I'll fall over you. 
 Wher've you been all day an' wher's y'r master ? 
 No use to roll y'r eyes an' whine I ain't a-goin' 
 to feed you no more. I wish you could talk I 
 do, by Samanthy ! It makes me feel sort o' creepy 
 an' uneasy you a-comin' in here, an' no sign o' 
 y'r master 'r the Injin. 
 
 " Ding-it-all-to-dangnation ! Why can't a dog
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 43 
 
 talk? They've got sense an' they've got souls, 
 an' they ort to have the power o' speech. Do 
 git out from under my feet, 'r you an' me'll have 
 a fallin' out d'rectly. Hello ! Here comes y'r 
 pardners." 
 
 " Good evening, Joe," Douglas cried. " What's 
 the prospect for a hot supper? " 
 
 "Fair to middlin','' Farley answered, a comical 
 expression overspreading his ugly features. ' ' One 
 o' the fellers is mixin' up a corn pone, an' we've 
 got plenty o' meat an' coffee. But you come jest 
 in the nick o' time you did, by ginger! " 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 Seating himself by the fire, Ross smiled as he 
 extended his hands toward the red blaze. 
 
 "Well, you see, it's this Way, Ross Douglas," 
 Farley replied, winking at the militiamen: "Y'r 
 dog come in with such a powerful appetite that he 
 was likely to eat us out o' house an' home. I had 
 to choke him off 'r ther' wouldn't 'ave been any- 
 thing left fer us human critters. An' I've been 
 watchin' him keerful ever sence, fer fear he'd begin 
 on me 'r the oxen. You ort to give him somethin' 
 to improve his eatin' capacity, Ross you re'ly 
 ort. I'm 'feard he's goin' into a decline." 
 
 Douglas rubbed his hands and joined in the 
 laugh that went around. Bright Wing sniffed the 
 savory odors of the cooking food and grunted : 
 
 ' ' Duke him much smart dog him smell meat 
 far off. Him find it soon very quick. Him 
 walk far work hard. Then him eat. ' '
 
 , 44 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Again the militiamen roared in glee. The pros- 
 pect of a warm supper and a night's rest had put 
 them in a good humor. The Wyandot's stern vis- 
 age relaxed into a smile ; but Joe cried in an injured 
 tone : 
 
 "Well, if workin' hard gives anybody a right to 
 eat, I ort to eat 'bout a ton to-night. A man that's 
 tramped twenty miles in the cold an' wet an' 
 whacked bulls every step o' the way ort to feed 
 on the fat o' the land. Nothin's too good fer him. 
 He's earned a right to go to glory wher' ther' 
 ain't no fightin' Injins n'r drivin' oxen, if I've been 
 rightly informed. 
 
 "But still things ain't as bad as they might be. 
 Mortals ortn't to complain, fer fear things might 
 git worse. An' nobody ever hears me doin' it. 
 The only time in my whole life that I ever give 
 way to a fit o' complainin', was when a dozen 
 women was wantin' to marry me at once an' I 
 had to leave the settlement to git red of 'em. Gol- 
 fer-socks ! I never saw the like I never did. 
 They was jest crazy over my beauty. But ther's 
 no use in rakin' up the past an' makin' you fellers 
 feel sorry. From the way that pone smells it's git- 
 tin' done. Le's have supper. Whew ! But the 
 steam o' that coffee tickles a feller's nose. Eat, 
 drink, an' be merry, I say ; fer to-morrer the red- 
 skins may have our scalps an' the buzzards be 
 pickin' our bones." 
 
 The hungry scouts and militiamen needed no 
 second invitation. Seating themselves about the
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 45 
 
 camp-fire, they ate and drank with a relish born of 
 exercise in the open air. After they had finished, 
 and filled and lighted their pipes, they talked over 
 the events of the day and speculated about what 
 the morrow would bring forth. 
 
 The wind fell and the rain ceased, but the broken 
 and ragged clouds continued to scud across the 
 starlit heavens. The twinkling camp-fires burned 
 low. Drowsy officers sought the shelter of their 
 tents. Privates rolled themselves in their blankets 
 and, with their feet to the fading embers, fell 
 asleep. Silence rested upon the camp broken 
 only by the faint murmur of voices here and there, 
 or the restless pawing of some tethered steed. Be- 
 yond the barricade of wagons a double line of sen- 
 tries was on guard. 
 
 One by one Ross Douglas's companions sought 
 slumber. At last he alone remained sitting by the 
 dying fire, his hand caressing the head of the blood- 
 hound that lay stretched beside him. He was 
 thinking of Amy the girl he had left behind 
 him. 
 
 ' ' Dear child ! " he whispered to himself. ' ' Per- 
 haps I should not have left her as I did. Her lot 
 will not be pleasant, I fear. But I couldn't help 
 it I felt that duty called me. And already I 
 have been able to render some slight service to my 
 country. When I return to her, I'll devote my 
 life to her care and comfort " 
 
 He broke off suddenly and flung up his head, 
 that had been resting upon his hand. The silence
 
 46 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 was disturbed by the voice of a man lustily 
 singing : 
 
 " I left my children in ol' Kaintuck, 
 In the cabin with the'r mother ; 
 
 And if the Injins kills the'r pap, 
 They'll never git another." 
 
 The words were lamely strung together ; and 
 their meaning was somewhat ambiguous. But 
 Ross was in a sad mood ; and the homely senti- 
 ment of the improvised song touched him. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " the young scout muttered under 
 his breath, as he arose and sauntered in the direc- 
 tion whence the voice came. ' ' His words may be 
 premonitory of the fate that awaits him." 
 
 After walking a few rods, he came upon the 
 singer seated with his toes in the ashes of an ex- 
 piring fire. 
 
 ' ' Hello, friend ! ' ' Ross cried cheerily. ' ' You 
 seem to be suffering from an attack of homesick- 
 ness." 
 
 " Y-e-s, I am a little homesick," the fellow ad- 
 mitted reluctantly. "You see, I left the little 
 woman an' the babies 'way down in ol' Kaintuck. 
 An' sometimes I git to feelin' that somehow I'll 
 never see 'em ag'in." And a sob was in his big, 
 coarse voice. "I thought ev'rybody was asleep 
 an' I'd jest sing a bit. Some people cries when 
 they're sad / sing. It always makes me feel 
 better, too. Hope I didn't wake you up with my 
 bellerin'."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 47 
 
 "Oh, no!" Douglas hastened to say. "I was 
 awake. But probably both of us had better try 
 to sleep; it is late." 
 
 " I s'pect we had," admitted the Kentuckian 
 and lapsed into silence. 
 
 Ross retraced his steps to his own fire and lay 
 down. But restlessness had possession of him. 
 Again the voice of the singer fell upon his ears. 
 This time Bright Wing opened wide his black eyes 
 and sat erect ; and Farley rolled over, grumbling 
 sleepily : 
 
 "Dodrot the critter! Can't he quit his cater- 
 waulin' day n'r night? He ort to be off on a 
 desert island by hisself." 
 
 Joe's voice ended in a long-drawn snore. Bright 
 Wing nodded a few times and rolled over upon the 
 damp ground, his head wrapped in his blanket. 
 Douglas threw some dry wood upon the fire and 
 continued his vigil. An hour passed. Utter silence 
 reigned around him. Presently the bloodhound 
 growled ominously and sprang to his feet. Ross 
 laid a restraining hand upon him and commanded 
 him to lie down. But Duke refused to obey. In- 
 stead he broke from his master's grasp and disap- 
 peared in the darkness. 
 
 ' ' What does it mean ? ' ' Ross muttered as he 
 hastily arose and set off in pursuit of the animal. 
 
 He caught a glimpse of the shadowy form of the 
 bloodhound flitting past one of the dying camp- 
 fires going in the direction of the river. Si- 
 lently but swiftly he followed. On reaching
 
 48 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the bank of the stream, he stopped in the black 
 shadows of the trees and strained his eyes and 
 ears, in a vain effort to catch sight or sound of 
 the dog. But all was silent blackness. He was 
 on the point of calling the animal, when a faint, 
 buzzing hum greeted his sense of hearing. The 
 sound was a series of whispered syllables. Drop- 
 ping upon hands and knees, he crept toward the 
 river's edge. Suddenly he dropped flat upon his 
 face and lay motionless. The sharp snap of a 
 breaking twig, a few feet ahead of him, had warned 
 him that he was close upon the speakers. Then he 
 distinctly heard these words : 
 
 " Negro's all right fix him in the morning 
 no failure be off. ' ' 
 
 Immediately following this came the sound of 
 rippling water. Some small object was stealthily 
 pushing away from the shore. Douglas hastily 
 arose and swiftly but silently retraced his steps to 
 the edge of the timber. There he met Bright Wing 
 and Farley. 
 
 ' ' What's up what' re you nosin' 'round out here 
 fer? ' ' inquired the latter in a strident whisper. 
 
 " Sh! " cautioned Ross, laying his hand upon Joe's 
 arm. 
 
 At that moment a man stepped from the edge 
 of the wood and started across the area, toward 
 the barricade of wagons. He had taken but a 
 few steps in the open, when a black body rose in 
 front of him; and Duke's low, threatening growl 
 broke the oppressive stillness.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 49 
 
 "Good fellow, good fellow!" the man said 
 wheedlingly. 
 
 But Duke refused to be moved from his path or 
 his purpose. The man attempted to go around 
 him, but the sagacious animal headed him off and 
 growled more threateningly. 
 
 ' ' Curse the brute ! ' ' the man muttered fiercely. 
 " I don't dare to shoot him the report of a pis- 
 tol would bring a dozen soldiers to the spot. What 
 am I to do ?" 
 
 Douglas stepped forward, remarking placidly : 
 
 "I wouldn't think of shooting the dog, if I 
 were you. His owner might raise objections. Per- 
 haps I can help you out of your dilemma." Then 
 to the dog : " Here, Duke ! Come here and lie 
 down." 
 
 Reluctantly the bloodhound obeyed, still growl- 
 ing. Farley and Bright Wing kept their distance. 
 The man had recoiled a step. Now he recovered 
 himself and mumbled surlily : 
 
 ' ' What's you an' y'r infernal cur out here 
 stoppin' honest people fer?" 
 
 ' ' What were you doing at the river shore ? " 
 Ross returned boldly. 
 
 The man's hand flew to his belt. Dimly Doug- 
 las discerned the shadowy movement. Bright 
 Wing's eagle eyes saw it, too ; and the sharp click 
 of his flintlock broke the stillness. The man peered 
 in the direction whence the ominous sound came 
 and his hand dropped to his side, as he answered 
 in a husky voice : 
 4
 
 50 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "I was jest wanderin' 'round the camp I 
 couldn't sleep. I was goin' back to my place 
 when y'r dog stopped me. You'd better keep the 
 cross brute tied up o' nights, 'r somebody '11 kill 
 him. Git out o' my way. " 
 
 And he made a move to leave the spot. 
 
 ' ' Wait a moment, ' ' Douglas requested. ' ' When 
 you spoke to the dog, your language marked you 
 as an educated gentleman. Explain." 
 
 "I don't have to give no explanations to you 
 'bout anything you ain't no officer," was the 
 defiant reply. 
 
 And the fellow stalked away in the darkness. 
 
 Farley could restrain himself no longer. Hurry- 
 ing to Douglas's side, he asked excitedly : 
 
 "What's it all mean, Ross? " 
 
 "I don't know," was the truthful answer. 
 
 " Did you know the feller ? " 
 
 ' ' No I couldn't see his face. ' ' 
 
 " He's one o' the soldiers, ain't he? " 
 
 ' ' I don't know, Joe, ' ' Ross replied rather im- 
 patiently. " Let's go back to our places." 
 
 As the three friends moved across the inclosed 
 space, toward the site of their camp-fire, they were 
 met by an officer of the guard, who cried angrily : 
 
 "You men go back to your places and stay 
 there. You know it is against the regulations to 
 stray about the camp at this time of night. The 
 next time you break the rules, I'll report you." 
 
 Farley was ready to fling back an angry retort, 
 but Douglas headed him off with :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 51 
 
 "We meant no harm, lieutenant. And we 
 thank you for your consideration." 
 
 Much mollified, the officer resumed his rounds. 
 In silence the three friends reached their place of 
 bivouac, and, rolling themselves in their blankets, 
 sought repose. But what Ross Douglas had seen 
 and heard rendered him still more wakeful. He 
 racked his brain for a solution of the mystery 
 but found none. Who was the man he had en- 
 countered and what had he been doing at the 
 riverside ? 
 
 "Treachery of some kind is afoot," the young 
 scout murmured to himself. ' ' Perhaps I should 
 have caught the mysterious personage and delivered 
 him into the hands of the guard. But what could 
 I have proven what charge could I have brought 
 against him? And now I've not the faintest idea 
 who he was, whence he came, or what was his pur- 
 pose. He tried to disguise his voice ; he altered his 
 language. He sought to conceal his identity and 
 he succeeded. There 's nothing to do but watch 
 and wait. But black treachery of some kind is 
 among us." 
 
 An hour passed. Ross Douglas's lids were closed, 
 and his breathing was deep and regular.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AT FOUR o'clock the next morning the troops 
 who had slept upon their arms were roused 
 from slumber and ordered to fall into rank. 
 There they stood, guns in readiness, until the first 
 faint rays of the cold, gray dawn dispelled the en- 
 veloping darkness and revealed near-by objects with 
 clear-cut distinctness. Governor Harrison realized 
 that he was in the enemy's country. He was well 
 aware that the wily foe with which he had to deal 
 preferred to attack in the early morning. He had 
 not served under Mad Anthony Wayne in vain. 
 Nor had he forgotten the lesson of St. Clair's awful 
 surprise and defeat. 
 
 Immediately after the order to break ranks was 
 given, the soldiers began to prepare their break- 
 fasts, while the teamsters went to water and feed 
 their pack and draught animals. The camp-fires 
 were relighted, and soon the appetizing odors of 
 cooking food pervaded the place. 
 
 Douglas left his companions to the performance 
 of their various duties, and went to report at the 
 tent of the governor. He found a number of 
 scouts who had returned to camp too late to re- 
 port on the previous evening in conversation 
 
 (52)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 53 
 
 with the commander and his staff. Ross took up 
 a position near the door of the tent, to wait until 
 the others should finish their business and take 
 their departure. 
 
 The central figure of the group of scouts was a 
 tall, broad-shouldered man of fifty years. His long 
 black hair was plentifully sprinkled with silver, and 
 his countenance was a crisscross of fine care-lines. 
 His dark blue eyes were alert and beaming with 
 native intelligence. But a puckered red scar on the 
 right cheek drew up the corner of his mouth and 
 marred the symmetry of his face. He wore the 
 picturesque garb of a backwoodsman ; but there 
 was an indefinable something about him that gave 
 the lie to his outward appearance. 
 
 Ross had seen the man almost daily since leaving 
 Vincennes, but had not formed his acquaintance. 
 Now, for some reason, the young man's attention 
 was closely drawn to the scar- faced scout. He 
 heard him saying in answer to a question from the 
 governor : 
 
 "Yes, I was clear inside of the Injin town; 
 that's why I didn't git back till late last eve- 
 nin'." 
 
 Douglas started. The man's husky voice sounded 
 strangly familiar. Governor Harrison was remark- 
 ing : 
 
 "And you found the savages friendly, Brad- 
 ford?" 
 
 Ross strained his ears to catch the answer. 
 
 "Yes, governor, I did."
 
 54 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' Who went into the village with you ? ' ' 
 
 "Nobody I was all alone. Price an' Hunter, 
 there " indicating two other scouts ' ' started 
 out with me, but we got separated somehow." 
 
 ' ' Did the Indians avoid you as you approached 
 their town?" 
 
 ' ' No, they was sociable. I talked with quite a 
 number, an' they said the'r chiefs wanted peace an' 
 was ready to hold a council with you." 
 
 There was the faintest hint of suspicion in Har- 
 rison's tone, as he said quickly : 
 
 ' ' But other scouts bring me different reports, 
 Bradford." 
 
 " I can't help that," the man replied doggedly. 
 " I can only report what I've seen an' heard. Any- 
 how, none o' the others had the grit to go into the 
 town. ' ' 
 
 This last he said with a toss of his head and a 
 defiant look at the other scouts. 
 
 ' ' I don't think your comrades lack courage, ' ' 
 the governor replied coolly. ' ' Their reception was 
 different from yours. On the march to-day I want 
 you to remain within call. As you speak several 
 of the Indian tongues, I may want to use you as an 
 interpreter. Your comrades have already received 
 their orders. You may go." 
 
 Was Ross mistaken, or was there a look of ma- 
 lignant triumph on Bradford's scarred face, as with 
 the others he left the tent ? 
 
 The young scout now stepped forward and saluted 
 the commander.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 55 
 
 "Ah ! You are here, Douglas," was Harrison's 
 pleasant greeting. "You have come for your 
 orders?" 
 
 " I have, governor." 
 
 "Very well. To-day you and the Wyandot are 
 to remain near me. I'll use you as interpret- 
 ers." 
 
 Ross bowed and withdrew. As he sauntered 
 away from the tent, he felt that he ought to return 
 and inform the commander of his experience of the 
 night. Yet what had he to tell? Perhaps his 
 imagination was magnifying a molehill into a 
 mountain. He halted half turned about then 
 proceeded upon his way. 
 
 Just as he was passing a point midway between 
 the governor's quarters and his own mess-fire, he 
 discovered Bradford in earnest conversation with a 
 burly negro an ox-driver, named Ben. The scar- 
 faced scout and the black man were standing be- 
 tween two of the covered wagons. The darkey's 
 brutal visage was alight with pleasure, as he jingled 
 a number of silver coins that Bradford had just 
 dropped into his outstretched palm. Ross heard 
 the white man say : 
 
 " Now, Ben, if you don't do what you've prom- 
 ised well, you'll hear from me. Git away from 
 here now we mustn't be seen together." 
 
 Douglas screened himself behind a wagon. Now 
 he knew why Bradford's husky tones had sounded 
 so familiar in the governor's tent. It was the 
 same voice he had heard at the river-side. The
 
 56 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 scar-faced scout was the mysterious personage he 
 had met the night before. 
 
 The negro slyly slipped away from the spot. A 
 half minute passed. Then Bradford boldly stepped 
 from his place of concealment. As he did so, he 
 swept a hurried glance around him and fastened 
 his keen eyes upon Douglas. 
 
 "What the devil 're you doin' there?" was his 
 expressive question. 
 
 His disfigured countenance was aflame with rage ; 
 and drawing his tall form to its full height he nerv- 
 ously fingered the trigger of his rifle. 
 
 "Attending to my own business," Ross answered 
 with provoking coolness, as he strode forth and 
 faced his questioner. 
 
 " Meddlin' with mine, more likely," was the 
 growling rejoinder. 
 
 "No," Douglas replied laughingly, "but if the 
 negro ever sues for his wages, I can be a witness to 
 the fact that you've paid him." 
 
 "What do you mean?" blustered Bradford, his 
 face purple. 
 
 ' ' I was passing and saw you give the darkey the 
 money. Are you the contractor that employs those 
 black fellows?" 
 
 ' ' You know very well I'm not. What 're you 
 insinuatin' ? " 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 ' ' What was you spyin' upon me fer ? 
 
 " I wasn't spying upon you. Why should I?" 
 
 ' ' You're a liar you was spyin' upon me ! "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 57 
 
 Douglas's steel-gray eyes flashed and his nostrils 
 dilated. For a few moments he glared hard at the 
 other his thin lips compressed. Then he said 
 with icy calmness : 
 
 ' ' Bradford if that be your name you have 
 mistaken the mettle of the man to whom you ap- 
 plied that term. Let me warn you. Put a curb 
 upon your hasty tongue or stand ready to defend 
 yourself. Your bluster didn't frighten me last 
 night nor does it now." 
 
 "What what do you mean?" Bradford fal- 
 tered, recoiling a step. 
 
 "You know well what I mean," Ross went on 
 quietly. "You're not what you seem. You're 
 masquerading. For what purpose I don't know. " 
 Bradford's face brightened ; he was recovering his 
 equanimity. "You're an educated man you 
 may be a gentleman and a patriot." 
 
 " I might return the compliment," the older man 
 interrupted sneeringly. "You, too, are an edu- 
 cated man. Perhaps you are masquerading you 
 are so ready to accuse others. At any rate, I know 
 less of you than you do of me. I don't know 
 your name, even." 
 
 "I'm not certain that I know yours," Ross re- 
 plied meaningly. 
 
 An expression of alarm flitted across Bradford's 
 scarred face, but he answered promptly : 
 
 "Yes, you know my name. It's Bradford 
 Hiram Bradford." 
 
 "And my name's Ross Douglas."
 
 58 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Bradford dropped the butt of his gun to the 
 ground with a thud. An ashen hue overspread his 
 face, and the red scar upon his cheek stood out 
 with a vividness that was startling. 
 
 ' ' Ross Douglas, you say ? " he asked with livid, 
 trembling lips. 
 
 The younger man was greatly surprised at the 
 effect the announcement of his name had pro- 
 duced upon his companion. But he kept control 
 of himself and simply nodded in answer to the 
 question. 
 
 Bradford's hand shook as he fumbled with the 
 buttons upon his rough coat. 
 
 "And your your mother's name?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 ' ' Why should I answer your questions ? ' ' 
 
 " Tell me tell me ! " the other panted. 
 
 "Mary." 
 
 "Your father's?" 
 
 "John." 
 
 A wonderful change came over the scar-faced 
 scout. He appeared to age ten years in as many 
 seconds. With the words ' ' My God ! My God ! 
 And I would have killed him ! " He shouldered his 
 rifle and hastened from the spot, leaving his com- 
 panion staring after him. 
 
 Ross slowly made his way toward the place where 
 his messmates were preparing the morning meal. 
 His mind was in a tumult. What was the mean- 
 ing of it all ? Who and what was the mysterious 
 scout?
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 59 
 
 ' ' Why did the announcement of my name so 
 affect him and why did he wish to know the 
 name of my father and mother ? " he asked himself 
 over and over. 
 
 He forgot where he was and passed the spot he 
 sought, without knowing it. He was aroused to 
 a sense of his surroundings by hearing Farley 
 bawl: 
 
 "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 mis- 
 chievously : 
 
 " 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 Inj in 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. I/>rdy !
 
 60 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 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 re- 
 plied hastily, arising and walking away. 
 
 Duke followed him. The intelligent animal 
 knew that something had gone amiss with the mas- 
 ter he loved. Farley looked after them and lugub- 
 riously 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 interpre- 
 ters. 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 Doug- 
 las and the Wyandot. On his return to Harrison's 
 presence, Ross reported as follows : 
 
 " Governor, the Indians fled from us, as on yes- 
 terday. The} 7 mean mischief. You must be pre- 
 pared for treachery, if you hold a council with
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 61 
 
 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." 
 
 4< 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. 
 
 "Yes," Ross continued in a low, cautious tone, 
 ' ' I think he entered the village. And no one but 
 a friend of the allied tribes would dare to do that 
 in my opinion." 
 
 "You mean " Harrison began, but stopped 
 
 suddenly, and, smiling, shook his head. 
 
 "I hardly know what I mean," Douglas said 
 with an uneasy laugh. "However, I'll explain 
 as best I can." 
 
 He told the commander of Bradford's suspicious 
 words and actions, concluding : 
 
 "It's not for me to offer you advice, governor ; 
 but if you'll pardon my boldness, I would suggest
 
 62 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 that you keep an eye on Bradford and the negro 
 ox-driver, Ben." 
 
 A worried look rested upon Harrison's rugged 
 countenance, as he murmured slowly : 
 
 ' ' I thank you for your information for your 
 watchful loyalty to your commander and your 
 country. You did well to tell me. Appear- 
 ances are against Bradford, but I can't believe 
 him a traitor. As to keeping an eye on the two 
 it's easier said than done. I don't know the 
 negro. And it f seems impossible to get an eye 
 on Bradford to-day to say nothing of keeping 
 it on him. However, I'll be watchful. If you 
 learn anything more definite, come to me at 
 once." 
 
 Then turning to an aide, he commanded : 
 
 ' ' Find Bradford, the scout, and bring him to 
 me." 
 
 In a few minutes the young officer returned to 
 report that the man could not be found. The gov- 
 ernor looked grave, but gave the order for the 
 column to move forward. 
 
 By mid-afternoon the advance guard was within 
 three miles of the Prophet's Town. Here the 
 ground was broken by ravines and covered with 
 scrub timber. It became necessary to exercise the 
 utmost precaution, to avoid an ambuscade. Scouts 
 and interpreters were pushed to the extreme front, 
 and every pass was reconnoitered by mounted rifle- 
 men before the main column entered it. Harrison 
 kept changing the relative positions of the various
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 63 
 
 corps, as he advanced, that each might have the 
 ground best suited to its maneuvers. 
 
 Within about two miles of the town, the trail de- 
 scended a steep hill, at the bottom of which was a 
 small creek running through a narrow strip of 
 swampy prairie. Beyond this was a level plain 
 covered with oak forest without underbrush. Near 
 the ford, the woods were very thick an admirable 
 place for the Indians to practice their mode of war- 
 fare. 
 
 The governor apprehended that the savages 
 would fall upon him at the crossing if they 
 meant to give him battle at all and arranged his 
 troops accordingly. Indians were seen hovering 
 around the front and flanks of the army, but they 
 made no move to attack. The long column 
 crossed the creek unmolested and formed on the 
 other side. The redmen retreated toward their vil- 
 lage, a mile and a half away. 
 
 The afternoon was far advanced, so the com- 
 mander decided to go into camp. But a number of 
 his officers urged him to move quickly forward and 
 attack the town at once. This he refused to do, 
 saying : 
 
 ' ' My orders are to avoid a conflict with the sav- 
 ages, if possible. However, I'll determine what 
 their intentions are as soon as I can and act 
 promptly as soon as I have positive information. I 
 can't imagine what has become of the friendly 
 chiefs I sent out from Fort Harrison. They should 
 have met us miles back. I hope they are in the
 
 64 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 village and will come out to us this evening. We'll 
 fortify ourselves as we did last night and await 
 the issue. ' ' 
 
 "But, governor," urged Major Daviess, "the 
 Indians mean to give us battle their actions indi- 
 cate the fact. They are attempting to draw us 
 into a trap. Our men are in high spirits and anx- 
 ious to attack. We should take advantage of 
 their ardor and " 
 
 ' ' And fall headlong into the trap of which you 
 speak," Harrison interrupted. "No, it won't do 
 to advance until we know more of the ground be- 
 tween here and the town. Already we are badly 
 situated these woods and ravines are favorable to 
 the Indians. A small body of the enemy could har- 
 ass us terribly. If I knew what lies between here 
 and the village, I would consent to a cautious ad- 
 vance but not otherwise." 
 
 "The rough ground soon ends," Major Daviess 
 answered. ' ' The town lies upon the low bottoms 
 of the Wabash and is surrounded by level, culti- 
 vated fields." 
 
 "How do you know this, major?" the governor 
 inquired. 
 
 "Adjutant Floyd and myself advanced to the 
 precipitous bank that descends to the valley, and 
 had a fair view of the place. ' ' 
 
 "Then," said the commander, reluctantly, " I'll 
 advance slowly and in order of battle, provided 
 I can get some one to enter the town ahead of the 
 army with a flag of truce. ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 65 
 
 Captain Dubois of Vincennes stepped forward and 
 volunteered his services. Harrison turned to Doug- 
 las, who was standing near, and said : 
 
 ' ' Douglas, will you and the Wyandot accompany 
 Captain Dubois, as interpreters?" 
 
 "Of course, governor," Ross replied cheerfully. 
 
 "Be off, then and note carefully all you see and 
 hear. Captain, obtain a positive answer from the 
 Prophet, whether he will comply with the terms I 
 have so often proposed. Have a care that you 
 don't get cut off from the army." 
 
 Taking with him several soldiers and the two in- 
 terpreters, Captain Dubois set out for the town. 
 The army moved slowly after, in order of battle. 
 
 When the captain and his comrades were within 
 a mile of the town, they encountered a large body of 
 Indians. The interpreters tried to open communi- 
 cation with them, but the treacherous savages gave 
 no heed to repeated hails. All the while they 
 circled around the little band of whites, attempting 
 to separate them from their friends in the rear. 
 
 "It's useless and dangerous to proceed further," 
 the captain exclaimed angrily. " Brown," address- 
 ing a soldier, ' ' go back to the governor and inform 
 him of our want of success, and of the perilous posi- 
 tion we occupy. ' ' 
 
 On receiving the word from his peace messenger, 
 Harrison set his teeth and said firmly : 
 
 "I've done with the Prophet's dillydallying; 
 I'll treat him as an enemy. Recall Captain Du- 
 bois and his men, and order the entire army to 
 5
 
 66 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 advance at a brisk pace. If the Indians don't come 
 out to treat with me, I'll attack their town at 
 once. ' ' 
 
 In a few minutes Dubois and his comrades had 
 rejoined the command. An animated scene pre- 
 sented itself to their gaze. Orderlies were gallop- 
 ing hither and thither ; officers were giving hurried 
 commands ; and regulars and militiamen were ex- 
 changing oaths and jokes, as they stood in line, 
 awaiting the order to advance. Every man thought 
 an engagement imminent and was depressed or 
 elated at the prospect, according to his tempera- 
 ment. 
 
 "Forward!" 
 
 The compact lines moved. But scarcely were 
 they in motion ere they were met by a deputation 
 of three chiefs including the Prophet's chief coun- 
 cilor who had _come from the village to meet the 
 commander and confer with him. 
 
 Again the army halted. Officers swore and pri- 
 vates grumbled. Why should they listen to such 
 tardy envoys? Why not make prisoners of them 
 and proceed to the attack? But Harrison gave no 
 heed to the stormy protests of his staff, nor to the 
 sullen mutterings of the rank and file. He had re- 
 solved to give the chiefs an audience. He did so ; 
 and received from them the information that the 
 Prophet was desirous for peace that he wished to 
 know why so large a force of armed men was ap- 
 proaching his town. Also, they said the Prophet 
 had sent back the Potawatomie and Miami chiefs
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 67 
 
 whom the governor had dispatched from Fort 
 Harrison with a pacific message, but the friendly 
 emissaries had made their return journey on the 
 south side of the Wabash, and for that reason had 
 missed the army. 
 
 All this seemed so fair and candid that the com- 
 mander agreed to an armistice and told the chiefs 
 to inform the Prophet, that he Harrison would 
 hold a council with him the next day. 
 
 Once more the columns moved forward. The 
 commander intended to camp on the low ground 
 near the village, which occupied a slight eminence 
 overlooking the wet bottoms. But not finding the 
 place to his liking, he sent Major Waller and Tay- 
 lor to select a more suitable location. The site the 
 officers chose was an elevated piece of dry ground, a 
 short distance northeast of the Indian town and 
 directly facing it. 
 
 Toward this spot the army proceeded. As the 
 lines of soldiers filed past the village, numbers 
 of armed warriors sallied forth, and appeared ill- 
 humored and threatening. 
 
 When the troops were nearing the chosen site of 
 the encampment, an incident occurred that created 
 a momentary ripple of excitement. Ben, the negro 
 ox-driver, suddenly threw down his whip and, 
 leaving his companions, ran off at full speed toward 
 the Indian town. A number of braves as though 
 expecting him met him and conducted him within 
 the walls. The other drivers hooted in derision, 
 and flung curses at the woolly head disappearing
 
 68 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 within the gate of the palisade surrounding the 
 village. 
 
 " Dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! " shouted Joe Far- 
 ley. ' ' Let the black deserter go. I wish I had 
 my ol' rifle out o' the. wagon, fer jest a minute! I 
 jest hope the redskins '11 roast an' eat him. It'll do 
 two good things be the end o' the nigger-traitor, 
 an' kill the Injins. Dang a nigger, anyhow ! " 
 
 Governor Harrison's attention was attracted by 
 the hubbub and he inquired the cause of it. 
 
 ' ' One of the negro ox-drivers employed by the 
 contractor has left his team and entered the Indian 
 village," explained an aide at the governor's elbow. 
 
 "What's the fellow's name?" Harrison asked 
 quickly. 
 
 "I don't know, governor." 
 
 ' ' Send Ross Douglas to me at once, ' ' was the 
 sharp command. 
 
 The aide obeyed. And soon the young scout 
 was at the commander's side. 
 
 "What's the black's name, who just went over 
 to the Indians?" Harrison asked, bending down 
 until his face was on a level with Douglas's. 
 
 "Ben," was the curt reply. 
 
 " The same of whom you told me?" 
 
 ' ' The same, governor. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Lieutenant ' ' addressing an officer of his 
 staff "go and bring the negro back. Take with 
 you a squad of men and yonder Wyandot, as in- 
 terpreter. ' ' 
 
 Then again turning to Ross :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 69 
 
 " Have you seen that man Bradford, to-day?" 
 
 "I have not, governor." 
 
 ' ' Do you know what has become of him ? ' ' 
 
 Douglas silently shook his head. 
 
 A fierce scowl darkened the commander's face as 
 he said in a low tone : 
 
 "Nor do I but I have an opinion. He's an 
 infernal traitor and has deserted. I have no 
 doubt that at this moment he's in the Prophet's 
 Town. Dark and devilish treachery is afoot. But 
 thanks to you, my young friend, I shall not be 
 taken by surprise. When I again have that man 
 before me, I shall know how to deal with him. The 
 black is a mere tool an ignorant dupe. Keep 
 your knowledge to yourself. I'll defeat Brad- 
 ford's purpose whatever it may be." 
 
 The army reached the elevated piece of ground 
 three-quarters of a mile from the village, and went 
 into camp. It was late in the evening. The sun 
 was sinking in a bank of dun-colored clouds an 
 indication of a dark and rainy night. 
 
 The teamsters disposed of their wagons, as on the 
 previous evening. Wood and water in abundance 
 were near at hand, for a clear creek, bordered by 
 trees and bushes, flowed at the rear of the camp. 
 Night shut down and a drizzling rain began to fall. 
 But supper was underway, and the appetizing odors 
 of broiling meat and boiling coffee cheered the 
 hearts and loosened the tongues of the tired men. 
 The merry snap and crackle of dancing flames 
 drowned the doleful voice of the wind sweeping
 
 70 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 across the open prairie and soughing among the 
 scrubby trees. 
 
 While the men were unloading the vehicles and 
 pack-horses and preparing supper, several Indians 
 from the town ventured within the lines. Having 
 in mind the mysterious disappearance of Bradford 
 and the open desertion of Ben, Governor Harrison 
 promptly ordered the red warriors to betake them- 
 selves to their own camp. At the same time he re- 
 quested them to send back the negro whom the 
 staff officer had failed to find, and who was still in 
 hiding at their village. This they promised to do. 
 
 Ross Douglas listened silently to the idle tales of 
 his companions, but his thoughts were far away. 
 He was thinking of Amy I^arkin as he had 
 thought of her a hundred times that day. He 
 wished that he might see her, if only for a few sec- 
 onds. He felt lonely and depressed. Then the 
 disfigured countenance of Hiram Bradford arose be- 
 fore his mind's eye and shut out the fair face of his 
 sweetheart. 
 
 Ross rubbed his eyes and tried to rid himself of 
 the unwelcome mental vision. But it would not 
 depart at his bidding. His thoughts refused to re- 
 vert to Amy, but persisted in dwelling upon the 
 scar-faced scout. It made him angry ; and he arose 
 and sauntered about in the darkness. 
 
 On returning to the fire he heard a militiaman 
 remarking : 
 
 ' ' Well, I reckon this ends the whole matter. 
 We've come on a reg'lar fool's errand a wild goose
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 71 
 
 chase. To-morrer the gov'ner '11 hold a powwow 
 with the Injins make another treaty with 'em 
 that they'll break 'fore we're back to Fort Harrison. 
 Then what? W'y, we'll march back to Vincennes 
 an' be discharged. Cuss it ! We ort to whip 
 the red devils while we've got 'em cornered. It 
 puts me in mind o' the ol' story 'bout the king o' 
 Spain ; how he marched up the hill an* then 
 marched down ag'in. The idee of a man totin' a 
 gun every day fer six weeks, to git a shot at a red- 
 skin, an' then when he's got the critters holed, 
 somebody sayin' he can't do it ! " 
 
 "I don't know 'bout y'r not gittin' a chance 
 to shoot," Joe Farley answered reflectively. 
 "Wouldn't be s'rprised you'd git the chance 
 when you was least expectin' it. Injins is dang 
 cunnin' varmints, sure's you're born. From all 
 I've seen an' heerd o' this Prophet an' his band, 
 I'm o' the 'pinion we'll have a scrimmage with 'em 
 'fore we git out o' this clearin'. An' if we do, 
 it'll come mighty sudden an' in the night, most 
 likely an' you'll have a chance to shoot y'r gun 
 off more times 'n you're hankerin' fer. 
 
 " The idee o' you complainin' 'bout totin' a rifle ! 
 You ort to be ashamed you had by Jerushy ! If 
 you'd had to whack bulls from Fort Harrison 
 wear y'r back out a-lickin' 'em an' y'r breath out a- 
 cussin' 'em you might complain. But I'm 
 through with it at last thank the Lord! I've 
 resigned my commission. Somebody else '11 drive
 
 72 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 'em back 'r they won't be druv that's all. The 
 idee o' puttin' a free-born American along with a 
 lot o' niggers to drive oxen ! It's a disgrace 
 a shame a blot on the Constertution ! L,augh, 
 dang y'r skins!" His companions were haw- 
 hawing boisterously. " Laugh at the agony of an 
 abused man ! But you chaps '11 be laughin' out o' 
 the other corner o' y'r mouths, 'fore mornin' 'r I 
 miss my guess." 
 
 The laughter suddenly ceased. And one of the 
 militiamen inquired gravely : 
 
 " What do you mean, Farley? " 
 
 "Jest this," Joe replied impressively. " I'll bet 
 any man a pound o' powder we have a rumpus 
 with the Injins 'fore sun-up to-morrer mornin'. 
 What do you say, Bright Wing?" 
 
 The Wyandot deliberately removed his pipe from 
 his lips, with the stem of it waved aside the cloud 
 of smoke he blew from his lungs, and answered in 
 guttural but not unmusical tones : 
 
 ' ' Bad Shawnees much sly, like fox. Make be- 
 lieve all time want peace all time want war. 
 Paleface camp here. Shawnee town there two, 
 three rifle shots away. Bad Shawnees bad Win- 
 nebagoes bad Senecas all bad. But much 
 brave heap cunning. Big Prophet talk, talk. 
 Night dark palefaces sleep Indians come and 
 kill, Ugh!" 
 
 The Wyandot resumed his pipe ; the militiamen 
 sat speechless.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 73 
 
 1 ' There it is, as plain as the nose on a man's 
 face ! " Joe shouted, exultingly. " Ross Douglas, 
 you hain't said a word. What do you think? " 
 
 Douglas answered quietly : 
 
 ' ' I think the savages mean to try to surprise 
 and massacre us. But whether they'll make the 
 attempt to-night, I don't know I have no idea." 
 
 "Hark!" cried a militiaman, nervously spring- 
 ing to his feet. "What's that hullabaloo 'bout?" 
 
 His companions hastily arose and stood listen- 
 ing intently. A chorus of shouts, mingled with 
 curses, came from the direction of the governor's 
 tent. 
 
 "I'll soon see what's up," muttered Farley, 
 bounding away toward the spot whence the sounds 
 came. 
 
 The others seated themselves and anxiously 
 awaited his return. The uproar suddenly ceased. 
 A few minutes later, Joe again stood within the 
 circle of light. A broad grin irradiated his homely 
 features. 
 
 ' ' What was it ? " bawled half a dozen voices at 
 once. 
 
 "W'y, ding-it-all-to-dangnation ! " Farley ex- 
 claimed excitedly. "The nigger's come back. 
 An' Cap'n Wilson's captured him an' got him in 
 charge. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Where did he capture him ? ' ' Douglas asked 
 quickly. 
 
 "Right behind the gov'nor's tent the dang 
 sneak was a-hidin' in the shadder of it."
 
 74 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "And he returned to murder the commander," 
 Ross muttered under his breath. "So that, at 
 least, was a part of Bradford's plan; and it has 
 miscarried. Who is that' man an agent of the 
 British? He's foiled for the present, at any rate. 
 But what does he know of me? Why was he so 
 agitated when he learned my name? And no 
 doubt he's at the Prophet's Town, impatiently 
 awaiting the news that the governor is assassinated. 
 Thank God, he's doomed to disappointment ! " 
 
 Gradually the noises of the camp died out. 
 Wrapped in their blankets and with their guns at 
 their sides, the soldiers stretched themselves around 
 the fires and fell asleep. The wind moaned dis- 
 mally ; the flames cast grotesque shadows over the 
 sleeping forms. In the outer darkness the sentries 
 paced their lonely beats. The murmur of shouting 
 savages and barking dogs came in on the wings of 
 the fitful gale, telling that the inhabitants of the 
 Prophet's Town were still astir. Then the fickle 
 wind veered to another point of the compass and 
 all was still. Suddenly the silence was broken by 
 the voice of a lusty singer. The sleepers stirred 
 uneasily as they heard in their dreams : 
 
 "The Injins hankers fer my scalp, 
 
 To sell to the highest bidder; 
 An' when I'm dead an' in my grave, 
 My wife '11 be a widder!" 
 
 "Drat the critter, anyhow!" gfumbled Farley, 
 flopping over upon his stomach and raising his
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 75 
 
 head. "He's at it ag'in. Seems he can't sleep, 
 n'r let anybody else. I wish to gosh he'd stayed 
 in ol' Kaintuck with his wife an' babies I do, by 
 Tabithy!" 
 
 Then in a startled voice : 
 
 "Say, Ross, wake up! Y'r Injin's took his 
 departure. Ther' ain't hide n'r hair of him to be 
 seen." 
 
 Douglas rubbed his eyes and sat erect. Bright 
 Wing had disappeared.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HEN did you discover his absence, Joe?'' 
 was Douglas's first question. 
 
 "Jest this minute," Farley replied 
 promptly. ' ' That dang Kaintuckian waked me 
 up with his caterwaulin' an' I found the Injin 
 gone. Then I called you. Listen to that critter 
 squallin' an' he calls it singin' ! " 
 
 1 ' What can have become of the Wyandot ? ' ' 
 Ross asked, unheeding Joe's complaining tone 
 as he arose and peered into the shadows. 
 
 " Don't know," Joe answered, with an expressive 
 shake of the head. "But I know what will be- 
 come o' him, if he goes nosin' 'round the camp." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Some o' the sentries '11 take him fer a prowlin' 
 redskin from the town over yander, an' put an 
 ounce o' lead into him that's what." 
 
 "That's 'bout so," growled one of the militia- 
 men from under his blanket. 
 
 "You are right," Ross admitted. " I'll make a 
 circuit of the camp and try to find him." 
 
 "An' while you're gone, kill that Kaintuckian 
 'r have the officer o' the guard buck an' gag him," 
 Farley snarled as he again threw himself upon the 
 ground. 
 (76)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 77 
 
 Douglas failed to find his red comrade and re- 
 turned to his place by the fire. 
 
 "See anything o' the Injin?" Joe sleepily in- 
 quired. 
 
 " No," was the monosyllabic reply. 
 
 ' ' Well turn in an" go to sleep. He's able to take 
 keer of hisself. Injins is Injins the best you can 
 make of 'em. They're jest like other wild var- 
 mints always prowlin' 'round o' nights. He'll 
 turn up in the mornin'. Go to sleep." 
 
 Douglas was worn out with the day's toil and 
 excitement ; so, rolling himself in his blanket, he lay 
 down. While he slumbers, let us follow Bright 
 Wing. 
 
 The Wyandot had left the others sleeping, and 
 had stolen to the outskirts of the camp. While 
 Ross was searching for him, he was in hiding be- 
 hind one of the wagons, awaiting a chance to slip 
 through the line of sentries. At last his patience 
 was rewarded; and with consummate skill and 
 cunning, he wormed through the tall grass and 
 bushes growing along the slope upon which the 
 camp was situated. When he found himself safely 
 beyond the lines, he nimbly arose to his feet and 
 sped across the strip of wet prairie lying between 
 the camp and the town of the Prophet. 
 
 On nearing the latter place, he halted and care- 
 fully reconnoitered. Apparently convinced the 
 way was clear, he boldly ascended the grade lead- 
 ing to the village, and found himself under the 
 walls of the fortified town.
 
 78 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 The Prophet's Town was a sacred place the 
 Mecca of his fanatical followers. Here he mut- 
 tered incantations and performed miracles ; here he 
 blessed the faithful and condemned to perdition all 
 unbelievers. Many pilgrims came and went each 
 day. And on this night the place was full of fierce 
 warriors mad with fanaticism and thirsting for 
 blood. 
 
 The town itself consisted of a large number of 
 flimsily constructed log-cabins and lodges of poles 
 and skins. These rude habitations were scattered 
 irregularly over several acres of ground. The 
 council lodge or cabin was centrally located. 
 Surrounding the whole was a palisade of poles and 
 logs. Two or three narrow openings in the wall 
 served as gateways. To-night they were closely 
 guarded ; for the enemy lay without and within 
 important business was engaging the attention of 
 chiefs and braves. 
 
 Bright Wing crouched in the shadow of the 
 palisade and listened intently. The din of many 
 voices came to his ears. Above the sullen, monoto- 
 nous roar, occasionally arose the exultant whoop of 
 some excited brave. Through a crack between 
 two of the upright timbers, the Wyandot caught 
 a glimpse of flaring torches and flaming bonfires. 
 For a brief moment he glued his eyes to the open- 
 ing. Then he arose and ran along the outer side of 
 the wall, until he came to a point where a log-cabin 
 occupied an angle filling the space between two 
 wings of the palisade. Near it was a guarded
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 79 
 
 gateway. L,ike a squirrel the Indian clambered up 
 the projecting ends of the logs of the hut and 
 boldly dropped to the ground within the inclosure. 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' was the startled grunt of one of the 
 guards at the gateway. 
 
 "What is it?" inquired his companion in the 
 Shawnee tongue. 
 
 "A noise at the cabin," was the answer. 
 
 ' ' It was the wind rattling the bark upon the 
 roof." 
 
 " It may have been a paleface." 
 
 " No ! " Contemptuously. "The palefaces are 
 cowards. They fear the wonderful power of Tensk- 
 watawa The Open Door." 
 
 The two guards lapsed into silence. Bright 
 Wing cautiously arose to his feet .and, dodging 
 from cabin to cabin, made his way toward the 
 center of the village. At last he reached a spot 
 where he could look out upon the square in which 
 stood the council lodge the Prophet's temple. 
 
 The space was ablaze with fires and torches. A 
 dense mass of savages, talking, whooping, and 
 gesticulating, surged around the entrance to the 
 lodge. Many different tribes were represented. 
 The young Wyandot saw several members of his 
 own tribe among the half-nude fanatics. Think- 
 ing, therefore, that his presence would not arouse 
 suspicion, he resolved to mingle with the excited 
 braves and learn what plans were afoot. 
 
 Slowly he edged forward until he reached the 
 outskirts of the crowd. Apparently no one took
 
 8o THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 notice of him all eyes were fixed upon the door of 
 the council lodge. He elbowed his way into the 
 surging mass and stood still his finger upon the 
 trigger of his rifle. 
 
 The braves were in war-paint and feathers. All 
 were fully armed. Shoulder to shoulder, stood 
 Winnebago and Wyandot; cheek by jowl, were 
 Shawnees and Pottawatomies. 
 
 Suddenly a mighty shout went up from the 
 savage horde. It was prolonged for several min- 
 utes. A thousand bronzed warriors bellowed them- 
 selves hoarse. They danced, and swayed, and 
 gyrated. Squaws and children added their pier- 
 cing treble to the thunderous bass of the men. 
 " Tenskwatawa ! " was the cry. Then, as suddenly 
 as it had arisen, the tumult subsided. Naught but 
 the heavy breathing of the multitude could be 
 heard. 
 
 Bright Wing riveted his gaze upon the front of 
 the council lodge. A procession was issuing from 
 the doorway. First came a number of torchbearers, 
 walking two abreast. They stepped apart on reach- 
 ing the open air, to form an avenue through which 
 passed a dozen forms fantastically clad and painted, 
 making a hideous din by beating shallow drums 
 and rattling strings of dried deer-hoofs. These 
 were followed by a group of dignified chiefs in 
 full war-dress. Last of all appeared a solitary fig- 
 ure, awful in its grotesqueness the horrible vision 
 of a nightmare. 
 
 " Tenskwatawa !" was the whisper that arose.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 81 
 
 It began in the front rank of the crowd and ran 
 toward the rear, until every pair of lips in the sea 
 of faces was moving. ' ' Tenskwatawa ! The 
 Open Door ! " Then a deathlike hush fell upon 
 them. 
 
 The grotesque figure was that of the Prophet. 
 He ascended a small platform to the right of the 
 door of the council lodge, and stood looking out 
 over the heads of torchbearers, musicians, and 
 chiefs. The glare of blazing torches fell upon him. 
 A buffalo-robe enveloped his body. The horns sur- 
 mounted his head and gave him a demoniac aspect. 
 The tail of the animal, whose skin he had as- 
 sumed, trailed upon the ground behind him. His 
 hideous, repellent face in which shrewdness, ava- 
 rice, and cruelty were reflected was striped and 
 smeared with black and yellow paints. From nose 
 and ears depended large silver crescents; and 
 around his neck was a string of bears' -claws. His 
 one eye twinkled balefully. 
 
 For a full minute he stood with folded arms. 
 Then he slowly raised his right hand toward the 
 black heavens. As he did so, a ring upon his index 
 finger caught the rays of the red and smoking 
 torches and emitted a fitful stream of sparkles. 
 
 "The Sign of the Prophet! The Sign of the 
 Prophet ! ' ' wailed and sobbed the throng of sav- 
 ages. 
 
 Many of them prostrated themselves to the 
 earth, some in convulsions frothing at the mouth 
 and gibbering incoherently ; others in a state of 
 6
 
 82 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 cataleptic rigidity their eyes wide open and star- 
 ing, their limbs immovably fixed. 
 
 The Prophet's lips moved ; but no words came 
 forth. He was praying. At last he dropped his 
 arm to a horizontal position, and, slowly and im- 
 pressively moving his hand from side to side, began 
 in low-pitched, resonant tones : 
 
 " Arise, children. I come to you with a message 
 from the Great Spirit." 
 
 The groveling braves got upon their feet, and, 
 leaning forward, listened eagerly to every word that 
 fell from his lips. 
 
 He continued : 
 
 " The forests and streams belong to the redmen. 
 The Great Spirit gave them to his wild children. 
 The palefaces have stolen our lands. The Great 
 Spirit is displeased with his children that they have 
 tamely submitted. All this you have heard before. 
 The time has come for action. You must strike a 
 blow to recover your own. The palefaces are with- 
 out the gates. They come to take from us the little 
 we have left. This is holy ground the feet of 
 our enemies shall not defile it. They come at a 
 time when your great leader the noble Tecumseh 
 is absent. They think to force you to submit to 
 their propositions. They demand a council. We 
 have promised to meet them. But we shall meet 
 them to-night not to-morrow. We shall take with 
 us the tomahawk not the peace-pipe. Our guns 
 shall speak for us. My children, the Great Spirit 
 sends you this message."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 83 
 
 Tenskwatawa paused to note the effect of 'his 
 words. The warriors silently gripped their weapons 
 and, with blazing eyes, waited for him to proceed. 
 Pitching his voice in a higher key, he resumed : 
 
 "The black man has returned to the palefaces. 
 I have put a spell upon him he will perform his 
 mission. Kre the turn of the night the great pale- 
 face chief will be in the spirit land, with his 
 fathers. Then will fear seize upon his warriors. 
 In the early morning, my children, you will fall 
 upon them and destroy them. The Great Spirit 
 has promised me the victory. Darkness will shelter 
 the redmen while a great light will reveal the 
 palefaces. I have brewed a drink of which each of 
 you shall sip and shall not taste death. Bullets 
 shall pass him by and long knives shall refuse to 
 harm him. The Great Spirit has promised and I 
 have told you. I have put a spell upon the pale- 
 faces. Already one-half of them are dead or crazy. 
 The victory shall be yours the Great Spirit has 
 promised. ' ' 
 
 Again he paused, his one eye fixed upon the sea 
 of dusky faces before him. The braves stood 
 spellbound awed to silence by his words and 
 manner. Raising his voice to the highest pitch, he 
 cried : 
 
 "If there be a coward among you, let him eat 
 dirt and stay with the squaws. I would lead you 
 myself, but the Great Spirit forbids. But my 
 power shall be with you my sign shall accompany 
 you. See!"
 
 84 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Again he raised his right hand ; and again the 
 ring upon his finger scintillated dazzlingly. 
 
 "The Sign of the Prophet! The Sign of the 
 Prophet ! ' ' was the awe-stricken whisper of the mul- 
 titude. 
 
 ' ' Listen ! " shouted Tenskwatawa. ' ' Three brave 
 chiefs shall lead you Winnemac, White Loon, and 
 Stone-Eater. I have said that my sign shall go with 
 you. So it shall. See ! I place it upon the noble 
 Winnemac's finger. It shall bring you victory over 
 our enemies. My children, I have spoken." 
 
 Wrapping the buffalo-skin closely around him, he 
 descended the platform and re-entered the council 
 lodge. The chiefs, musicians, and torchbearers fol- 
 lowed him, in order. Then the pent enthusiasm of 
 the warriors broke loose. They whooped, howled, 
 and danced ; they embraced each other and rolled 
 over and over upon the ground. In a fanatical 
 frenzy, they caught up burning firebrands and ran 
 hither and thither. For several minutes pandemo- 
 nium reigned. 
 
 Bright Wing had learned all he desired. He 
 turned to slip away unmolested, and had reached the 
 edge of the crowd and was rapidly making his way 
 toward the palisade, when he came face to face with 
 a white man. The Wyandot uttered a grunt of 
 surprise, as he recognized the form and features 
 of Hiram Bradford. 
 
 ' ' Hello ! ' ' cried the latter. ' ' Where are you run- 
 ning so fast, my red friend and what are you do- 
 ing here ? ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 85 
 
 The young Indian haughtily drew himself erect 
 and retorted : 
 
 "Bright Wing among his people. What paleface 
 scout do here." 
 
 ' ' Good very good ! ' ' Bradford chuckled hus- 
 kily. "Well, I'll answer your question, Wyandot, 
 and then you shall answer mine. I'm here as an 
 agent of the British, and I'm doing what I can to 
 help your people to recover what belongs to them. 
 Now, what are you doing here ? ' ' 
 
 "Bright Wing come help, too," was the quick 
 reply. 
 
 ' ' Y-e-s, " the scar- faced scout answered doubtingly, 
 "but you've been among the palefaces I saw you 
 there, you know. You've been scouting for them." 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' Bright Wing grunted . "You scout for 
 palefaces, too. Me see you there. " 
 
 Bradford was disconcerted by the Wyandot' s 
 shrewd replies. Now he cried irritably : 
 
 " I^et's understand each other, my red friend. I 
 was among the Americans as a spy. What were 
 you doing in their service ? ' ' 
 
 "Bright Wing him spy, too," was the unmoved 
 rejoinder. 
 
 ' ' And you have left them and come to fight with 
 your people ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! me fight with friends. Paleface fight 
 with redmen ? " 
 
 " No, " Bradford reluctantly admitted ; " I shan' t 
 fight with them. I can better help them in an- 
 other way. Where are you going ? "
 
 86 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "Bright Wing him go find friends. Good- 
 night." 
 
 The Wyandot stalked away, leaving Bradford 
 staring after him. 
 
 " It may be all right," muttered the latter, "but 
 I greatly doubt it. I suspect that cunning fellow's 
 here as a spy. But how did he pass the guards at 
 the gate? Ah ! here comes Gray Wolf ! " 
 
 Gray Wolf was a gigantic, vicious-looking Shaw- 
 nee. Evidently he and Bradford were old acquaint- 
 ances. They held a hurried conversation. Then 
 Gray Wolf hastened away in pursuit of Bright 
 Wing. He came upon the Wyandot in an obscure 
 corner of the inclosure, just as the latter was pre- 
 paring to scale the palisade. 
 
 "Why is my brother here by himself? "the 
 Shawnee suavely asked in his own tongue. 
 
 "Perhaps it pleases him to be alone," Bright 
 Wing answered haughtily, in the same language. 
 
 "And perhaps he means to leave the village?" 
 
 ' ' And if he does, has he not the same right to go 
 and come as the birds of the air or the beasts of the 
 forest ? " 
 
 ' ' But Tenskwatawa has given orders that none 
 shall leave the village until the appointed time. I 
 know my brother. He is Bright Wing, a Wyan- 
 dot." 
 
 ' ' And 7 know my brother. He is Gray Wolf, a 
 Shawnee." 
 
 The two warriors stood glaring at each other 
 in the darkness. Gray Wolf was the first to
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 87 
 
 speak again. He said in a low, intense tone of 
 voice : 
 
 ' ' My brother is the friend of the palefaces the 
 enemy of his race." 
 
 Bright Wing replied proudly : 
 
 ' ' The words that fall from my brother's lips are 
 not the words of truth. Bright Wing is the true 
 friend of his race." 
 
 " Does he stand ready to prove it? " Gray Wolf 
 asked sneeringly. 
 
 " He does," was the frigid reply. 
 
 " Has he the Sign of the Prophet? " 
 
 "He has." 
 
 ' ' Bright Wing has a forked tongue it refuses 
 to speak the truth," Gray Wolf cried triumphantly. 
 ' ' Many have seen the Sign of the Prophet, and felt 
 its power but Tenskwatawa alone has it." 
 
 " Gray Wolf knows that he lies ! " Bright Wing 
 answered fiercely. ' ' For at this moment Winne- 
 mac bears the Sign of the Prophet." 
 
 The Shawnee was taken aback. The answer was 
 unexpected. He growled savagely : 
 
 ' ' Bright Wing is the dog of the palefaces. What 
 does he here?" 
 
 The Wyandot leaned forward and hissed in the 
 other's ear : 
 
 ' ' He comes to tear the throat of the wolf that 
 helped to murder the great and kind chief, lyeather- 
 lips. Die, whelp of a Shawnee ! " 
 
 Gray Wolf tried to spring out of reach of his 
 Nemesis, shaping his lips for a war-whoop, as he did
 
 88 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 so. But the Wyandot's tomahawk descended and 
 buried itself in the Shawnee's brain. The whoop 
 ended as a death-rattle in his throat. His great 
 bulk sank to earth, an inert mass. One bubbling 
 expiration of the breath and Gray Wolf was a 
 corpse. 
 
 Bright Wing wiped the blood from his tomahawk 
 and replaced it in his belt. Then he whipped out 
 his scalping-knife, muttering in his own tongue : 
 
 " He helped to murder my father. His footprints 
 will blight the flowers and grass no more. The 
 Great Spirit willed that Gray Wolf should die by 
 the hand of Bright Wing " 
 
 He closed the sentence abruptly, and jerking off 
 the reeking scalp of the Shawnee, caught up his 
 rifle and darted away in the darkness. The sound 
 of approaching footsteps had come to his quick 
 ears. 
 
 A minute later a prolonged war-whoop reverber- 
 ated from one end of the village to the other. In 
 answer to it came a hundred others. All was ex- 
 citement and confusion. Torches bobbed and 
 flared here and there. An enemy was in the 
 camp. 
 
 Bright Wing flattened his form against the slop- 
 ing roof of a cabin where he had taken refuge 
 and breathlessly awaited the outcome. The hut 
 upon which he was perched stood near the edge of 
 the inclosure, and the roof sloped toward the palis- 
 ade. He was far from the blazing bonfires, and 
 darkness sheltered him. His enemies searched
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 89 
 
 high and low, but failed to discover him. Three or 
 four times groups of them stood under the low 
 eaves and jabbered in guttural accents. Gradually 
 the excitement subsided and darkness and silence 
 reigned. 
 
 Hours slipped by, but Bright Wing did not dare 
 to leave his hiding-place. He realized fully the 
 dangers that beset him, and he shuddered, thinking 
 of his white friends. He must give them warning. 
 But how ? He thought of many reckless plans, but 
 abandoned each in turn. 
 
 Midnight passed and morning was drawing 
 nigh. Again the town was astir. The Wyandot 
 heard the buzz of myriad voices, and knew what it 
 meant. The allied tribes were preparing for the 
 attack. He stretched his cramped limbs and cau- 
 tiously descended to the ground. If he was to give 
 warning, he must be off at once. He would make 
 an attempt no matter how reckless. For several 
 minutes he stood in the shadow of the low building, 
 vainly striving to map out a plan of procedure. 
 The steady tramp of hundreds of moccasined feet 
 greeted his ears. The Prophet's braves were 
 marching forth to battle. 
 
 Bright Wing ran to the palisade and sought to 
 scale it. Failing at one point he tried another. 
 Frantically he dug his ringers and toes into the 
 crevices between the upright timbers. His efforts 
 were fruitless. He did not dare to approach the 
 spot where he had entered the inclosure ; the guards 
 near at hand were alert. The tramp-tramp of the
 
 90 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 marching warriors drew nearer. They were ap- 
 proaching the northeastern gate. The Wyandot 
 made a final effort to climb the wall and fell back. 
 His heart sickened. Was he doomed to failure ? 
 The thought made him desperate. Recklessly he 
 strode to the northeastern gateway and assayed to 
 pass out. The click of a gun-lock brought him to a 
 standstill. A guard stepped from the shadow and 
 said : 
 
 " Has my brother the Sign of the Prophet? " 
 
 "He has seen it," Bright Wing mumbled, " but 
 Tenskwatawa alone has it. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Why does my brother seek to go out alone ? ' ' 
 
 "At the order of the great Winnemac he goes to 
 scout," was the quick-witted reply. 
 
 "Ugh!" ejaculated the sentry, taking a step 
 backward. 
 
 The nimble-footed Wyandot darted through the 
 gateway and disappeared just as the head of the 
 column of braves came in sight. 
 
 Down the incline, across the swampy prairie, and 
 up the slope leading to the camp of the whites, 
 Bright Wing sped like the wind never pausing 
 until he drew near the line of sentries. The sky 
 was thickly clouded ; a gentle drizzle was falling. 
 Dropping upon the ground, he watched and waited 
 for a chance to elude the vigilance of the pickets. 
 A white man would have given the alarm, by step- 
 ping forward and permitting himself to be chal- 
 lenged ; but the proud Wyandot scorned to do 
 anything of the kind. Minutes passed. Suddenly,
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 91 
 
 a light footfall attracted his attention ; and the next 
 moment Duke's cold muzzle touched his hand. 
 
 " Go 'way go to master ! " Bright Wing com- 
 manded in a stern whisper. 
 
 In answer the dog threw up his nose and sniffed 
 the damp air. Then with a low growl, he bounded 
 away toward camp. 
 
 " Duke him smell redmen," the Wyandot mut- 
 tered to himself. ' ' Me must go in quick right 
 away." 
 
 Little by little he wriggled forward the sentry 
 pacing his beat within a few feet of him. The next 
 instant the intrepid young brave was upon his feet. 
 Like a scudding cloud he glided to the barricade of 
 wagons, and disappeared among them. A moment 
 later he bent over the sleeping form of Ross Doug- 
 las and, shaking him roughly, cried: 
 
 "Wake, Fleet Foot ! "The Indian name of his 
 white friend. "Up! Up! Winnemac and heap 
 many braves come come soon." 
 
 Douglas threw off his blanket, and, leaping to his 
 feet, cried excitedly : 
 
 "Did you say the Indians are coming, Bright 
 Wing?" 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' grunted the imperturbable Wyandot. 
 ' ' Come quick soon sight many. ' ' 
 
 " You mean they're almost upon us? " 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 "How did you learn the fact?" 
 
 "Bright Wing go to Prophet's Town learn big 
 heap."
 
 92 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Duke now dashed into the circle of light and out 
 again, barking furiously. His hoarse voice wak- 
 ened Farley and his messmates. They stumbled to 
 their feet, sleepily rubbing their eyes. 
 
 "What in dingnation's all this hullabaloo 'bout, 
 anyhow?" Joe demanded irritably. 
 
 " The Indians are upon us ! " cried Ross. "Se- 
 cure your arms and make yourselves ready for 
 battle. I'm off to warn the officers." 
 
 And striking the breech of his rifle, to prime it, 
 Douglas bounded away toward the governor's tent. 
 
 "Jest as I pr' dieted," Farley growled. " Dang- 
 it-all-to-dingnation ! Hang-it-up-an'-take-it-down- 
 an'-cook-it ! Did anybody ever hear o' such dang 
 fools as Injins is? Git up in the night to fight ! 
 Dodrot that Kaintuckian ! He's the cause o' all 
 this he is, by the Queen o' Sheby ! He might 
 'ave knowed his caterwaulin' 'Id bring on a rumpus 
 even Injins can't stand no such unearthly noise 
 as he makes. Great snakes it's darker 'n a 
 squaw's pocket 1 " 
 
 It was about four o'clock in the morning the 
 darkest hour in the twenty-four. The moon had 
 risen, but was veiled by heavy clouds. The rain 
 still fell. The smoldering camp-fires shed a faint, 
 uncertain light over the scene. Governor Harrison 
 had already arisen and was sitting by the fire in 
 front of his tent. He had just pulled on his boots 
 and was conversing with the members of his staff, 
 who sprawled upon blankets, in a circle around the 
 red embers. They were waiting for the signal to 

 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 93 
 
 turn out. In a few minutes the drum would have 
 beaten reveille. Of a sudden the report of a rifle, 
 followed by an Indian yell, broke the stillness of 
 the camp, and brought the officers to their feet. 
 
 ' ' What's the meaning of that ? ' ' Harrison asked 
 sharply. 
 
 At that moment Ross Douglas leaped into the 
 circle of light, shouting : 
 
 "An attack! An attack, governor ! The savages 
 are upon us ! A sentry has just fired upon one 
 and " 
 
 His words were drowned in a torrent of Indian 
 war-whoops. Then followed the crash and roar of 
 discharging firearms. A streak of flame ran along 
 the western picket line. The sentries came flying 
 into camp. The Indians were making an onslaught 
 on the left wing. 
 
 In a moment all was bustle and excitement. The 
 suddenness of the attack almost caused a panic. 
 But the commander was the firm rock upon which 
 the wave of consternation broke. Hastily mount- 
 ing his horse, he dashed toward the point of conflict, 
 shouting his orders right and left as he went. 
 Drum and bugle called to arms. The soldiers 
 tumbled out, formed in line, and rushed to meet the 
 foe. The battle was on in earnest. 
 
 The fires were stamped out, leaving the camp 
 in darkness. Pandemonium broke loose. The rat- 
 tle of discharging rifles grew to a roar. The red- 
 men's war-whoops were answered by yells. The 
 castanet-like click of rattling strings of deer-hoofs
 
 94 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 mingled with the muttering roll of drums and the 
 piercing peals of bugles. Terrified oxen lowed and 
 bellowed ; frightened pack and draught horses 
 neighed shrilly as they broke their tethers, and ran 
 madly about the camp. Officers pistol in hand 
 rode along the lines, encouraging their men to stand 
 firm. 
 
 The impetuosity of the 'savages born of igno- 
 rance and fanaticism was a fair match for the cool 
 valor of the whites. Neither party would give 
 ground. The battle spread until it raged fiercely 
 upon three sides of the camp. The Indians forgot 
 their ancient tactics and boldly fought in the open. 
 They met the soldiers face to face and madly 
 charged the lines of bayonets. Again and again 
 the opposing forces came together with a reeling 
 shock. Blood drenched the dead grass. Curses 
 and groans commingled,; and over all rose the weird 
 voice of Tenskwatawa upon an eminence a short 
 distance away chanting his war-song. 
 
 Major Daviess and Colonel White fell mortally 
 wounded. Captain Spencer and his lieutenants 
 were all dead; and Captain Warwick was dying. 
 Colonel Owen dropped at the governor's side. He 
 was mounted upon a white horse at the time ; and 
 as Harrison had ridden a white horse on the pre- 
 vious day, undoubtedly the Indians mistook the 
 aide for the commander. Dead and dying braves 
 and soldiers lay thick upon the hotly contested field. 
 
 During the battle Harrison spurred from one part 
 of the camp to another, disposing his troops to the
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 95 
 
 best advantage. His officers begged him not to ex- 
 pose himself, but he persisted in being where the 
 fire was hottest. His courage and coolness did 
 much to hold the men steady under the deadly 
 fusillade in the darkness. One ball pierced his hat 
 rim and another cut a lock of hair from his temple 
 but still he rode unharmed through the scathing 
 fire. Seeing an ensign a Frenchman sheltering 
 himself behind a tree, the governor cried, angrily : 
 
 ' ' Out from behind that tree, you cowardly ras- 
 cal !" 
 
 " Me not behind ze tree," explained the ensign ; 
 "ze tree in front of me. Zere, ze tree here, my 
 position. What can I do, governor? " 
 
 With a laugh Harrison rode on and left the fel- 
 low. 
 
 A Winnebago broke through the lines of militia 
 and dropped dead within the camp. A tall militia- 
 man sprang forward to scalp the prostrate savage 
 but received a death-wound. 
 
 " Served him right ! " snarled Joe Farley, who 
 was loading and firing with the rapidity and pre- 
 cision of a piece of machinery. ' ' Tryin' to make 
 an Injin of hisself the heathen ! " 
 
 The left flank began to give way before the 
 desperate and persistent foe. Ross Douglas and 
 Bright Wing were fighting side by side, in that 
 quarter. A half-dozen warriors sprang through 
 the broken lines, brandishing their arms and yell- 
 ing fiendishly. Four of them fell dead in their 
 tracks. Douglas and his comrade engaged in a
 
 96 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 hand-to-hand combat with the other two. The 
 Wyandot quickly dispatched his opponent, but 
 Ross was not so fortunate. His foot slipped upon 
 the blood-soaked sod, and he fell prostrate. His 
 savage foe, with raised tomahawk, was upon him. 
 The young scout closed his eyes, expecting death. 
 But the next moment the Indian lay gasping for 
 breath, with Duke's keen fangs buried in his 
 throat. 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! Duke him here at right time ! ' ' grunted 
 Bright Wing, as he rammed home another charge. 
 
 The ends of the broken line swung into place 
 and still the battle raged. 
 
 The rain ceased to fall ; the sky began to clear. 
 Darkness gave place to dawn. The commander 
 ordered a charge all along the lines. Inch by inch 
 the savages gave way in spite of the bravery of 
 their chiefs, and the inspiration of Tenskwatawa's 
 war-song. At last they could stand the cold steel 
 of the bayonets no longer. They broke and fled. 
 Down the slope and across the boggy prairie, toward 
 their town, they hastened, carrying many of their 
 dead and wounded with them. Victory had perched 
 upon Harrison's banner; and the palefaces had won 
 the battle of Tippecanoe. 
 
 The victorious troops pursued the fleeing sav- 
 ages, until the yielding surface of the wet prairie 
 compelled the mounted riflemen to halt. Then 
 the whole force returned to camp. The whites had 
 lost one hundred and eighty in killed and wounded ; 
 the Indians, probably, had lost an equal number.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 97 
 
 At sunrise squads of soldiers were engaged in 
 burying the dead and carrying the wounded to the 
 surgeon's quarters. Joe Farley was on the detail. 
 At the southwestern angle of the camp, he came 
 upon the body of a tall and lank militiaman. The 
 man lay upon his side a contorted, blood-stained 
 heap. His head rested upon his arm, and his face 
 was partially concealed. Supposing that the poor 
 fellow was dead, Farley caught him by the shoul- 
 der, to turn him over. The dying man moaned 
 feebly. Bending over him, Joe said tenderly : 
 
 "I didn't mean to be rough, friend, I thought 
 you was was are you hurt bad?" 
 
 The blue lips moved and these words were 
 breathed into Farley's face : 
 
 ' ' I left my children in ol' Kaintuck, 
 
 In the cabin with the'r mother ; 
 And now the'r pap has got his death 
 An' they'll never git an-oth-er!" 
 
 The faint voice ended in a whispering quaver. 
 Joe sprang erect, his limbs trembling, his face as 
 white as chalk. 
 
 " Poor critter ! " he murmured, pityingly. " He's 
 dyin'; but he's still thinkin' of his wife an' chil- 
 dren. Poor little woman an' poor little boys an' 
 gals down in ol' Kaintuck ! You'll never git an- 
 other husband an' father, that's a fact ; not one 
 that '11 think as much of you, anyhow. His words 
 has come true. He must 'ave had a prem'nition o' 
 what was in store fer him. Ding-it-all-to-dangna- 
 7
 
 98 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 tion ! I'm sorry fer him poor feller ! An' I wish 
 I hadn't growled so much 'bout his caterwaulin' 
 I do, by Katherine ! But I thought he was jest 
 foolin' I didn't know he was pourin' out his soul 
 in singin'." 
 
 Joe broke off suddenly and dashed the tears from 
 his eyes. The dying Kentuckian gave one expir- 
 ing groan and passed over the dark river. The 
 woodman stood silently looking down at the lump 
 of senseless clay for several minutes. Then he 
 turned and strode away, muttering : 
 
 "I don't like this buryin' business, nohow. It 
 makes me down in the mouth. It's worse 'n drivin' 
 oxen, by a long shot. Poor little boys an' gals 
 down in ol' Kaintuck ! They ain't got no pap 
 now they'll never be rocked to sleep in his arms 
 no more." 
 
 He stopped and shook his head sadly, reflec- 
 tively. 
 
 " Where Fleet Foot and Duke? " 
 
 Farley glanced up and beheld Bright Wing at his 
 side. 
 
 " Ross an' the bloodhoun' ? " he inquired. 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " I don't know. But where you find one of 'em 
 you'll find t'other, most likely. I hain't set eyes on 
 the dog sence last night, but I saw his master this 
 mornin' jest after the Injins broke an' run. 
 You'll find 'em both 'round the camp somewheres." 
 
 "Me look no find," answered the Wyandot 
 with a positive shake of the head.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 99 
 
 " Well," Joe returned dryly, " I wouldn't lose no 
 sleep 'bout 'em, Injin, if I was you. They're able 
 to take keer o' the'rselves. " 
 
 "Me look much long time no find dog no 
 find master," the Indian persisted. 
 
 ' ' That so ? " Joe replied a shade of uneasiness 
 in his tone. "Well, you've got nothin' else to do 
 so go on huntin'. When I git through with this 
 bloody business o' helpin' to take keer o' the dead 
 an' wounded, I'll take a look 'round with you. 
 By the way, I'm gittin' most pow'rful hungry. 
 But a feller told me a little bit ago the beef an' meal 
 was all gone, an' some of us 'Id have to eat hoss 
 flesh fer our breakfast. Fer my part, I ain't a 
 hankeriri 1 . I can go purty nigh anything, but I 
 draw the line at hoss-steaks. It's a sight worse 'n 
 havin' a lot o' women in love with you. W'y, In- 
 jin, one time so many female genders got in love 
 with me, I " 
 
 The voluble fellow stopped speaking and looked 
 around. The Wyandot had disappeared. 
 
 " By my gran'mother's ear-trumpet ! " muttered 
 Joe. ' ' That redskin comes an' goes like a shadder. 
 S'pose he didn't like my talk 'bout women-folks. 
 He must 'ave some ol' love affair ranklin' in his giz- 
 zard. I'm mighty awful hungry, I swan. Well, 
 if I can't eat, I can smoke." 
 
 And filling and lighting his pipe, he hurried 
 away to procure help in removing the body of the 
 Kentuckian to the place of burial. 
 
 After a scant breakfast, the soldiers busied them-
 
 loo THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 selves about the camp, righting overturned vehicles, 
 securing stampeded animals, interring the dead, and 
 throwing up a ring of fortifications. Governor 
 Harrison deemed the latter proceeding a necessary 
 precaution. He thought the savages might renew 
 the battle as soon as darkness came again. 
 
 The day passed. Night came a night of fe- 
 verish expectancy and unrest to the exhausted sol- 
 diers. Joe Farley and Bright Wing did not sleep, 
 but sat by the fire all night long, starting at every 
 unusual sound and longing for morning. All the 
 afternoon they had searched for Ross Douglas and 
 his dog, but had found no trace of either. It 
 was the opinion of all to whom they spoke, that the 
 rash young scout had ventured too far in pursuit of 
 the savages and had been killed or captured. 
 
 Dawn came at last. After breakfast, General 
 Wells took the dragoons and mounted riflemen and 
 went to reconnoiter the Prophet's Town. Farley 
 and Bright Wing obtained permission to accompany 
 the detachment. 
 
 The general found the place deserted. But one 
 inhabitant remained within its walls a chief 
 with a broken leg. The whites dressed his wound 
 and made other provision for him, and told him to 
 say to his people that if they would desert the 
 standard of the Prophet and return to their own 
 tribes, they would be forgiven. 
 
 The troops found a large quantity of corn, which 
 was very acceptable ; also some hogs and domestic 
 fowls. These they removed to their camp.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 101 
 
 The savages had fled precipitately, leaving many 
 of their arms and household utensils behind them. 
 A large number of the guns were yet wrapped in 
 the coverings in which the British had imported 
 them. 
 
 Farley and Bright Wing found no trace of their 
 friend, until they were slowly and sadly returning 
 to camp. Then, a hundred yards from the north- 
 eastern gate of the palisade, Joe picked up a silver 
 button belonging to Douglas's hunting-shirt. He 
 showed it to the Wyandot, who simply nodded 
 meaningly and pointed in the direction in which 
 the Prophet's followers had fled. On reaching 
 camp, Farley carried the memento to Governor 
 Harrison and remarked : 
 
 " Gov'nor, Ross Douglas has been missin' sence 
 the battle. I picked up this button close to the 
 Prophet's Town. Ross is a pris'ner 'mong the In- 
 jins, as sure's shootin' him an' his dog, too." 
 
 " How did it happen? " cried Harrison. 
 
 " I don't know. But me and Bright Wing wants 
 to foller the dang redskins an' try to rescue him 
 
 "It's madness to think of such a thing," the 
 governor interrupted. "You'll throw away your 
 lives to no purpose. ' ' 
 
 "It don't make no differ' nee," Joe said dog- 
 gedly. ' ' Life ain't worth much to such poor 
 scamps as me, at best an' it won't be worth 
 nothirf if Ross Douglas is tortured an' killed by the 
 In j ins. No, gov'nor, me an' Bright Wing's goin'
 
 102 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 after him. You'll give us leave to go an' not 
 have us desert, won't you, gov'nor?" 
 
 Joe asked the question pleadingly, tears standing 
 in his pale, watery eyes. 
 
 "Yes, <?/" Harrison said, grasping the wood- 
 man's calloused hand. " I discharge you here and 
 now. And may the Almighty's protecting power 
 accompany you ! ' ' 
 
 "Amen! Thank you, gov'nor an' good-by," 
 Farley answered. 
 
 That afternoon Farley and Bright Wing shoul- 
 dered their rifles and set out on the trail of the In- 
 dians. The next day the army started upon the 
 return journey to Fort Harrison and Vincennes 
 the wagons loaded with wounded soldiers. The 
 campaign had been short, sharp, and effective.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON THAT fateful morning of the battle of 
 Tippecanoe, Ross Douglas fought in the 
 front ranks until the savages broke and fled. 
 Then he joined in the hot pursuit. Duke kept 
 close at his master's side, growling and baying 
 viciously. In the charge Bright Wing got sepa- 
 rated from his white comrade, and returned to 
 camp. Ross impetuously pressed onward, keeping 
 his eyes upon the flying foe and glancing neither to 
 the right nor the left, until he found himself at the 
 foot of the slope leading up to the Indian village. 
 He looked around in surprise he and the dog 
 were alone. He beheld the troops a dense, 
 dusky mass a half mile away. 
 
 ' ' Cowards ! ' ' the young man muttered scorn- 
 fully. "Why have they given up the pursuit? 
 Now's the time to win a glorious victory and make 
 a lasting peace. Fools ! To come hundreds of 
 miles to indulge in a mere skirmish. They should 
 follow up, their success, and annihilate the Prophet 
 and his bloodthirsty band. If they stop at this, 
 nothing will have beeri accomplished. But I may 
 as well go back with the others. Ah ! who's that ? 
 Bradford!" 
 
 It was indeed the scar-faced scout. At full 
 speed he came running down the slope, gesticu- 
 
 (103)
 
 104 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 lating wildly. What could it mean? Ross had 
 just reloaded his rifle. Now he rested his finger 
 upon the sensitive trigger and wonderingly awaited 
 the deserter's approach. 
 
 "Flee flee for your life, Douglas!" Bradford 
 shouted excitedly. 
 
 Duke, who had been trying to warn his preoccu- 
 pied master of approaching danger, by a series of 
 low hoarse growls, now began to bark furiously. 
 Ross hastily glanced around him. He was almost 
 surrounded by a party of Indians. They had been 
 in hiding behind a clump of bushes near the foot 
 of the incline, awaiting the chance to cut off the re- 
 treat of some venturesome white. The gray fog 
 rising from the marshy prairie had helped to con- 
 ceal them. While the unsuspecting Douglas had 
 stood gazing at the walls of the town, his cun- 
 ning enemies had risen from their hiding-place, and 
 like silent specters glided out upon the soft prairie 
 and thrown themselves in a semicircle around him. 
 Now they yelled exultingly and began to close in. 
 
 Ross did not wait to see or hear more. In- 
 stantly he resolved to make a dash for liberty. 
 " Come, Duke ! " he cried ; and with the fleetness of 
 a deer sprang away, attempting to break through 
 the line of his foes. 
 
 Bradford was at the bottom of the slope. 
 " Hold ! " he shouted frantically. " It's too late 
 you'll throw away your life ! " 
 
 But Douglas did not heed the warning. He 
 eluded the grasp of one of the Indians who barred
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 105 
 
 his way ; discharged his rifle full in the face of an- 
 other ; struck down a third and leaping over his 
 prostrate body, sped on. A half-score of guns 
 cracked simultaneously. But the bullets failed to 
 reach the moving mark ; and master and dog were 
 beyond the line of their enemies. They would 
 have distanced their pursuers and escaped, had not 
 an unforeseen accident occurred. Ross's foot became 
 entangled in a bunch of coarse, wet grass, and he 
 tripped and fell heavily. Ere he could rise his ene- 
 mies were upon him. 
 
 Duke sprang at the throat of the foremost assail- 
 ant, and dog and brave fell to the ground. Over 
 and over they rolled the hound striving to bury 
 his fangs in the Indian's throat, the savage at- 
 tempting to sheath his knife in the animal's heart. 
 
 Douglas got upon his feet, clubbed his rifle, and 
 laid about him vigorously. But his foes over- 
 powered him and pressed him to the earth. Seeing 
 which, Duke relinquished his hold upon the throat 
 of his prostrate adversary and flew to the aid of his 
 master. The dying warrior gasped, and attempted 
 to arise blood spurting in crimson jets from his 
 lacerated arteries. 
 
 At the critical moment, Bradford rushed among 
 the braves, and flinging them right and left, thun- 
 dered in the Indian tongue : 
 
 " Hold, you mad devils ! Would you overpower 
 and murder a man who has fought bravely for his 
 life ? Harm not a hair of his head, or your lives 
 shall pay the penalty. He is my prisoner. ' '
 
 io6 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Bending down, he assisted Douglas to arise. As 
 soon as he could speak, the young man called to the 
 bloodhound : 
 
 "Here, Duke ! Down down, I say ! " 
 
 The obedient animal left the savage with whom 
 he was struggling, and crouched at his master's feet 
 panting, whining, and rolling his blood-rimmed 
 eyes. The Indians drew apart a short distance, 
 grunting and grumbling in a surly and threatening 
 manner. .For a full minute the two white men stood 
 looking at each other. Douglas's chest was still 
 heaving from his recent exertions; and his words 
 came brokenly : 
 
 ' ' You saved my life. I thank you for it ! But 
 I'd rather you had left me to my fate." 
 
 "Why ? " Bradford asked coolly. 
 
 " Because I don't like to be Under obligations to 
 a traitor," Ross replied boldly. 
 
 The younger man expected to see the older' s face 
 pale with anger. But a smile actually rested upon 
 Bradford's scarred visage, as he returned calmly : 
 
 "You're mistaken, iny young friend. I'm no 
 traitor. You are loyal to the Americans / am 
 loyal to the English." 
 
 ' ' Then you are a spy in the employ of the 
 British." 
 
 " Y-e-s. Or an agent to look after their interests 
 among the Indians, rather." 
 
 " I despise you none the less," Ross cried. 
 
 Bradford continued to smile as he said : 
 
 "You are young therefore you are indiscreet.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 107 
 
 I have saved your life ; I would be your friend. But 
 if you don't desire my friendship, I can turn you 
 over to the tender mercies of those red fiends, who 
 are hungering to tear you limb from limb. Even 
 now they are grumbling about my interference. I 
 may lose my life for my temerity. You're un- 
 grateful. ' ' 
 
 ' ' If you regret your act of mercy and fear for 
 your own safety," Douglas sneered, "call your sav- 
 age hounds and tell them to do their worst. I can 
 die fighting." 
 
 "I don't regret what I have done," Bradford 
 returned huskily, a shade of sadness in his voice, 
 ' ' nor do I fear for my own safety. I don't value 
 life I don't fear death. And I'll save you or 
 perish with you. But you must listen to reason ; 
 you must do my bidding. Just at present I have 
 great influence with the Indians. I'll exert it to 
 the utmost in your behalf. But you and your 
 vicious dog have sorely punished your assailants. 
 Two warriors are dead and several others are 
 wounded. Their comrades thirst for revenge. Hist ! 
 Here they come. Say not a word leave it all to. 
 me." 
 
 A stalwart Indian came forward and grunted sur- 
 lily : 
 
 " The paleface's arm is strong his aim is sure ; 
 the fangs of his dog are long and sharp. Two 
 braves are sleeping with their fathers ; and three 
 others are binding up their wounds. The paleface 
 and his dog must die."
 
 io8 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " No, lie shall not die, chief," Bradford cried an- 
 grily. " He fought for life and liberty. You as- 
 sailed him twenty to one. I rescued him he is 
 my prisoner. I shall take him to the village with 
 me." 
 
 " He is not Scar Face's prisoner," the chief re- 
 turned fiercely, laying his hand upon his tomahawk 
 while his warriors crowded around him, mutter- 
 ing threateningly. 
 
 " Tenskwatawa shall decide," Bradford answered 
 coolly. 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa is a squaw ! He promised us vic- 
 tory ; we met defeat. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Say that to Tenskwatawa, and he will cast a 
 spell upon you." 
 
 A grayish pallor overspread the chief's dusky vis- 
 age. His eyes dilated and his jaw dropped. Brad- 
 ford quickly followed up the advantage he had 
 gained. Leaning forward, he whispered in the In- 
 dian's ear : 
 
 "Shall I repeat your words to the Prophet? " 
 
 Abject terror took possession of the chief. He 
 trembled, and gasped for breath. His warriors ut- 
 tered startled grunts and drew away. Bradford 
 continued sternly : 
 
 ' ' Then, take your braves and be off to the village. 
 I will follow with the prisoner." 
 
 Without a word in reply, the savages obeyed the 
 order. Bradford waited until they had disappeared 
 within the walls. Then turning to Douglas, he 
 said:
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 109 
 
 " Come you must accompany me." 
 
 "We're alone," Ross answered quietly; "you 
 can't compel me to go with you." 
 
 " My gun is loaded your' 's is empty," was the 
 significant reply. 
 
 "True but you wouldn't shoot me." 
 
 Bradford started. 
 
 "What makes you think that?" he asked 
 quickly. 
 
 " I don't know. But you wouldn't." 
 
 "No, I wouldn't injure you even if you left 
 me to my fate." 
 
 "Your fate? I don't understand you." 
 
 " If you leave me to return to the village alone, 
 I shall meet death at the hands of the savages. 
 They'll kill me for breaking faith with them." 
 
 ' ' Then go with me to the camp of the whites " 
 
 ' 'And be shot as a spy! " Bradford completed. 
 
 ' ' True ! ' ' Douglas said slowly and impressively. 
 " Bradford, you are a British spy an enemy of my 
 country. I hate you I despise you ! " The older 
 man turned pale to the lips, but did not interrupt 
 his companion. "But you have befriended me; 
 and I'll not be guilty of the sin of ingratitude. 
 You shan't sacrifice your life for my liberty. 
 Take my arms. I'm your prisoner." 
 
 " Keep your arms," Bradford returned hoarsely, 
 his chest heaving, his white lips twitching. ' ' Re- 
 load your gun. We may have to fight shoulder to 
 shoulder. I^et's be prepared to sell our lives 
 dearly."
 
 no THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Silently Ross reloaded and primed his rifle. Then 
 he said simply : 
 
 "I'm ready." 
 
 " Come," was the gruff response. 
 
 Side by side, the two men ascended the slope and 
 entered the unguarded gateway of the palisade. 
 Duke accompanied them. An extraordinary spec- 
 tacle met their gaze. Hundreds of armed warriors 
 Shawnees, Winnebagoes, Miatnis, Wyandots, and 
 others were swarming promiscuously about. 
 Squaws and children bearing bags and bundles hur- 
 ried hither and thither. All was bustle and confu- 
 sion. The whole resembled a hive of angry bees 
 into which some venturesome youngster had thrust 
 a stick. 
 
 "What's the meaning of all this?" Ross in- 
 quired of his companion. 
 
 " They are preparing to abandon the town," was 
 the reply. 
 
 " Shall we go with them? " 
 
 "If we're alive at the time yes." 
 
 They elbowed their way through the throng, at- 
 tracting no little attention. 
 
 "Scar Face," muttered a Winnebago, as they 
 passed. 
 
 "Fleet Foot," grunted a Wyandot. 
 
 " Does he mean you? " asked Bradford turning to 
 his companion. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "You merit the name. Does the Wyandot war- 
 rior know you ? "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET in 
 
 "Undoubtedly. I've traded among the mem- 
 bers of the tribe, for years." 
 
 "Do you speak their language?" 
 
 " I speak several Indian tongues." 
 
 "So much the better. Our mutual knowledge 
 may be of value to us." 
 
 They were conversing in low tones, all the while 
 proceeding in the direction of the council-lodge. 
 
 "And they call you Scar Face," Douglas care- 
 lessly remarked. 
 
 " Yes," answered his companion, in a tone of in- 
 tense bitterness the red scar upon his cheek blaz- 
 ing like a beacon light of danger. 
 
 Ross instantly realized his mistake, and hastened 
 to say : 
 
 " I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I wouldn't 
 do that needlessly, though I look upon you as 
 an enemy." 
 
 "I fully understand your feeling toward me," 
 Bradford replied, his features working. " It's un- 
 necessary for you to explain." 
 
 Douglas was surprised. Who was this strange 
 man, to whom he owed his life and for whom he 
 felt such antipathy and who appeared determined 
 to be his friend? To relieve his embarrassment, 
 the younger man asked : 
 
 ' ' Have you spent much of your life among the 
 Indians? " 
 
 " Half of it," was the curt reply. 
 
 By this time they were neariiig the entrance of 
 the council lodge ; and Bradford continued :
 
 112 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "There we have safely run the gauntlet of 
 scowling looks and threatening gestures. I feared 
 we should not get through so easily. Now we'll 
 have an interview with Tenskwatawa. Oh ! there 
 he is." 
 
 In front of the council lodge stood the Prophet. 
 He was alone. His head was bowed ; his chin, 
 buried in the folds of his buffalo-robe. He was a 
 bronze statue of gloom the personification of ut- 
 ter dejection. 
 
 " Come," whispered Bradford to Douglas. " Let's 
 hurry to him while he's alone. Our safety de- 
 pends upon our winning him to our side." 
 
 Ross hesitated and drew back. 
 
 ' ' Don't be a fool ! " Bradford hissed. "This is 
 no time for squeamish notions of independence." 
 
 " But I hate him ! " Douglas panted. "I would 
 kill him ! " 
 
 "Nevertheless," was the unmoved reply, "he 
 holds the winning cards, at present. Our lives are 
 in his hands. No doubt the chief and his warriors 
 have been to him. Come and leave everything 
 to me." 
 
 At that moment Tenskwatawa lifted his head and 
 fixed his one eye upon them. A malicious smile 
 flickered about the corners of his sensual mouth 
 and was gone. Again he was a graven image. 
 
 Bradford was about to speak, when a gigantic In- 
 dian accompanied by a score of warriors uncere- 
 moniously elbowed him aside and stopped before the 
 Prophet. The newcomer was Winuemac, the great
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 113 
 
 Pottawatomie chief. His hands were clenched ; his 
 features, black with rage. The Prophet kept his 
 gaze fixed upon the ground and gave no heed to the 
 angry chief's presence. 
 
 " Tenskwatawa is a Shawnee squaw !" Winne- 
 mac thundered. 
 
 ' ' He promised us success ; we received defeat. 
 He said the palefaces were crazy ; but they were in 
 their senses, and fought like devils. He told us 
 that we should rejoice over the destruction of the 
 White Chief's army ; we mourn for our young men 
 slain. He assured us that we should not taste 
 death ; we feasted upon it. Tecumseh is a brave 
 warrior ; Tenskwatawa is a squaw ! See, braves ! I 
 spit upon him and slap his face ! " 
 
 And suiting the action to the words, the enraged 
 chief spat upon the Prophet and dealt him a re- 
 sounding slap upon the cheek. 
 
 The assembled warriors yelled in derision. Scores 
 of others, attracted by the uproar, came running to 
 the spot. Bradford and Douglas found themselves 
 in the center of a mob of hooting, gesticulating 
 demons, ready to wreak their rage upon any object 
 that offered. The two white men looked anxiously 
 about them, but saw no way of escape. 
 
 Tenskwatawa did not resent Winnemac's insult. 
 Instead, he lifted his hand to command silence ; 
 and, as soon as he could make himself heard, began 
 meekly : 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa is no warrior he is the Prophet 
 of the Great Spirit. Tenskwatawa is no squaw, 
 8
 
 U4 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 though he has borne the burdens of his people for 
 many moons. The Great Spirit promised Tensk- 
 watawa the victory, and he gave the message to his 
 children. The Great Spirit did not lie " 
 
 1 ' Tenskwatawa lied ! ' ' Winnemac shouted 
 fiercely. 
 
 Unheeding the interruption, the Prophet contin- 
 ued : 
 
 " The Great Spirit made no mistake : but Tensk- 
 watawa blundered. He parted with his sign his 
 power. He gave it to the noble Winnemac, that 
 he might lead his warriors to victory. Tenskwat- 
 awa robbed himself of his power he was help- 
 less. The noble Winnemac could make no use of 
 the sign he knew not the secret of its power. 
 The battle was lost. Tenskwatawa blundered." 
 
 Grunts of approval followed this apparently 
 frank confession. Seeing which, Winnemac cried 
 sneeringly : 
 
 "Tenskwatawa lost his power and it is gone 
 forever. He is a babbling papoose ! ' ' 
 
 " Return to him his sign, and he will show the 
 noble Winnemac that he is mistaken, ' ' the Prophet 
 returned quietly. 
 
 "Take it ! " sneered Winnemac, drawing the ring 
 from his finger and contemptuously flinging it at 
 the feet of its owner. 
 
 Tenskwatawa secured the talisman and restored 
 it to its accustomed place upon his right hand. In- 
 stantly a remarkable change took place in his as- 
 pect and demeanor. No longer was he a humble
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 115 
 
 suppliant begging pardon for past mistakes. He 
 proudly drew himself erect, his lips curling scorn- 
 fully. The pupil of his eye contracted. The 
 ring upon his finger scintillated in the rays 
 of the morning sun. With a sinuous, snake- 
 like movement, he glided to Winnemac's side ; and 
 suddenly pushing the sparkling jewel before the 
 startled chief's eyes, hissed : 
 
 " The sign the power ! Look look ! you can- 
 not take your eyes from it ! " 
 
 Winnemac's features froze became rigid, ex- 
 pressionless. His eyeballs bulged from their sock- 
 ets and remained fixed. The Prophet slowly waved 
 his hand to and fro. The Pottawatomie's head 
 turned from side to side his gaze followed the 
 movements of the talisman. Faster and faster the 
 Prophet's hand flew. Then, of a sudden, he 
 leaned forward and whispered in the chief's ear : 
 
 "You are drowsy. Sleep sleep! Your limbs 
 are heavy feeble. Sleep sleep ! ' ' 
 
 Winnemac's eyelids dropped ; his frozen features 
 thawed. He trembled, swayed and sank upon 
 the ground, a senseless clod. Tenskwatawa pointed 
 his finger at the sleeping warrior and shouted tri- 
 umphantly : 
 
 "Look, children! Look upon the valiant Win- 
 nemac. He doubted my power, he spat upon me 
 and defied me. See ! he lies helpless at my feet. 
 The Great Spirit willed it and he sleeps. Awaken 
 him, if you can. You cannot. The loudest thun- 
 der would not rouse him ; the keenest torture would
 
 ii6 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 not cause him to stir. Thus will he sleep forever, 
 unless the Great Spirit, through me, wills that he 
 awake." 
 
 The assembled braves pressed forward and craned 
 their necks, to gaze upon their vanquished chief- 
 tain. One look was sufficient. To their untutored 
 minds, a miracle had been wrought. They surged 
 backward silent, awestruck. 
 
 ' ' Listen ! ' ' screamed the Prophet, his counte- 
 nance purple with rage and excitement. "My 
 children, you have scoffed at my power. Shall I 
 do with you as I have done with the great Winne- 
 mac? Shall I cast a spell upon you shall I cause 
 you to sleep forever ? ' ' 
 
 Again he lifted his hand and flashed the glitter- 
 ing gem before their eyes, his head swaying from 
 side to side in a serpentine manner. Shrieks and 
 groans of terror arose from the assembled warriors. 
 Some prostrated themselves to the earth and pled 
 for mercy ; others fled from the scene craven fear 
 depicted upon their faces. 
 
 "What's the meaning of it all?" Douglas in- 
 quired in a low tone, of his companion. "Is it a 
 clever play for our benefit? " 
 
 " No," answered Bradford with a positive shake 
 of the head. ' ' Tenskwatawa possesses some won- 
 derful power. I don't know what it is but I've 
 felt it." 
 
 "And couldn't you resist it?" 
 
 " / could yes. But many can't as you have 
 witnessed. Hush he is speaking. ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 117 
 
 The Prophet was saying : 
 
 "Arise, my children. The Great Spirit forgives 
 you / pardon you. Have no fear; no harm 
 shall befall you. Go and prepare for your 
 journey. We must leave this sacred spot ; the 
 white man's presence has defiled it. But the Great 
 Spirit will go with us. He has promised. At an- 
 other time, He will give us the victory over our 
 enemies. The noble Winnemac shall sleep no 
 longer. See ! ' ' 
 
 Tenskwatawa, clapping his hands thrice in quick 
 succession, cried sharply : 
 
 "Winnemac, awake arise ! " 
 
 The Pottawatomie suddenly opened his eyes ; and, 
 springing to his feet, gazed wildly around him, a 
 bewildered expression upon his face. little by lit- 
 tle he recovered his scattered faculties and remem- 
 bered where he was and what had happened. A 
 horrified look settled on his countenance, as his 
 eyes rested upon the Prophet. He shivered like 
 one with an ague ; and his teeth chattered. 
 
 "The bold and warlike Winnemac has been 
 asleep in the early morning," Tenskwatawa re- 
 marked sneeringly. 
 
 " Ugh ! " was the guttural reply. 
 
 Drawing his blanket over his head to hide his face, 
 the Pottawatomie turned and staggered from the 
 spot. The assembled warriors quickly followed him, 
 leaving the two white men alone with the Prophet. 
 
 "Again I have witnessed the power of Tensk- 
 watawa," Bradford said, smiling and extending his
 
 n8 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 hand toward the red hypnotist. ' ' Surely he speaks 
 with the Great Spirit." 
 
 Evidently the Prophet understood the flatterer's 
 purpose ; for, ignoring the extended hand, he an- 
 swered sternly : 
 
 ' ' Yes ; Tenskwatawa speaks with the Great 
 Spirit. And the Great Spirit informs him that the 
 young man at Scar Face's side must die." 
 
 Bradford was not disconcerted. He returned 
 coolly : 
 
 ' ' Is Tenskwatawa sure he heard the Great 
 Spirit's words aright?" 
 
 " Tenskwatawa heard aright," was the haughty 
 reply. ' ' The young paleface is of the Seventeen 
 Fires. He is an enemy of the redmen. To-day he 
 fought against them, slaying two and wounding 
 three. The Great Spirit says he shall suffer death 
 by torture." 
 
 " Did the Great Spirit inform Tenskwatawa that 
 this young man Fleet Foot is my friend? " 
 
 ' ' No. But is not Scar Face the friend of the 
 redrnen ? ' ' 
 
 "He .is." 
 
 ' ' Then how can an enemy of the redmen be the 
 friend of Scar Face ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Fleet Foot fought only to save his life. He 
 was attacked by twenty braves. I ran to his 
 rescue. I saved his life and brought him here. 
 He is my prisoner. L,et Tenskwatawa enter the 
 council lodge and again talk with the Great 
 Spirit."
 
 H9 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa has no need to talk further with 
 the Great Spirit nor with Scar Face," the Prophet 
 muttered in a decided tone. "The young paleface 
 is of the Seventeen Fires ; he fought with the great 
 White Chief he must die." 
 
 ' ' If Fleet Foot meets death at the hands of the 
 redmen, I meet death with him," Bradford said 
 firmly. 
 
 An evil smile flickered around the corners of 
 Tenskwatawa' s wide mouth, as he replied men- 
 acingly : 
 
 " If Scar Face be so anxious to meet death, he 
 has not far to go. I will call my children and give 
 him and Fleet Foot as toys, into their hands." 
 
 The Prophet opened his lips, to carry his threat 
 into execution. As though understanding the im- 
 port of what had been said, Duke raised his bristles 
 and growled hoarsely. Startled by the sound, the 
 Prophet recoiled a step. Taking advantage of his 
 unguarded attitude, Bradford dropped his gun, and 
 leaping forward, caught the Shawnee around the 
 body and carried him into the council lodge. Doug- 
 las and Duke quickly followed. 
 
 Setting the red hypnotist in the center of the 
 bare floor, Bradford panted fiercely : 
 
 ' ' You infernal impostor and scoundrel ! Your 
 uncanny power has no influence over me. I am no 
 superstitious Winnemac. You would give Fleet 
 Foot and me into the hands of your red fiends, eh? 
 Well, you shall die first ! " 
 
 Bradford spoke in the Shawnee tongue ; and the
 
 120 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Prophet understood every word. The boastful 
 braggart cowered and trembled. Cowardice was 
 written in every lineament of his features. A 
 sickly pallor overspread his face. He could not 
 articulate a sound. He fearfully rolled his eyes 
 from side to side. But no chance of escape offered 
 no attendants were at hand. 
 
 Turning to his companion, Bradford asked hur- 
 riedly : 
 
 ' ' You brought my gun in with you ? ' ' 
 
 Ross nodded. 
 
 "Well, see that both pieces are in order. I'll 
 kill this miscreant then we'll make a running 
 fight for it. It's all that is left us." 
 
 Tenskwatawa was shaking like one with senile 
 palsy. Bradford drew his knife and swiftly ad- 
 vanced upon him. The base wretch dropped upon 
 his knees and supplicatingly raised his hands. He 
 tried to speak ; but naught save the chatter of his 
 teeth broke the stillness of the big, dark room. 
 
 "Die, treacherous devil!" Bradford hissed as 
 he raised his arm to strike. 
 
 ' ' Mercy ! ' ' Tenskwatawa managed to gasp. 
 
 "Mercy!" sneered Scar Face, still holding the 
 knife aloft. "Dare you beg for mercy? What 
 mercy have you ever shown? You condemn my 
 friend and me to death yet ask me to show mercy 
 to you! " 
 
 "Mercy!" the craven lips whispered. "Scar 
 Face and his friend shall go free ; my children shall 
 not harm them."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 121 
 
 A husky laugh gurgled in Bradford's throat, as 
 he answered : 
 
 4 ' You are a fool you think to deceive me. As 
 soon as we are out of your presence, you will 
 call your red hounds and ; set them upon us. No ! 
 I cannot trust you your hour has come. Pre- 
 pare to meet the Great Spirit whose name you have 
 defamed. You are a treacherous cur and you 
 shall die!" 
 
 "Have I ever deceived you, Scar Face?" the 
 Prophet asked tremulously, in his terror dropping 
 the figurative form of speech to which he was ad- 
 dicted, and speaking in the first person. 
 
 " N-o," Bradford admitted. 
 
 ' ' Nor am I deceiving you now, ' ' the kneeling 
 savage hastened to say. "You and your friend 
 shall go free none shall molest you. You shall 
 come and go at your pleasure. I was mad to 
 threaten you ' ' 
 
 " Indeed, you were ! " Bradford interrupted, drop- 
 ping his arm, but still retaining a firm hold upon 
 his knife. ' ' Now, Tenskwatawa, if you have come 
 to your senses, arise and give heed to what I say. 
 This is the second time you have pitted yourself 
 against me and both times you have been 
 worsted. The next time I shall not bandy words 
 with you. Do you understand my meaning ? " 
 
 The Prophet, who had arisen to his feet, nodded 
 meekly. 
 
 "Very well," Scar Face continued, "you are 
 desirous of wresting your lands from the grasping
 
 122 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Americans. The British are your allies. They 
 have furnished your children with arras, ammuni- 
 tion, and clothing. I am their agent. Do you wish 
 me to return to my people and tell them you sought 
 to take my life ? ' ' 
 
 Tenskwatawa sullenly but emphatically shook his 
 head. 
 
 Bradford proceeded : " Had you caused my death, 
 my people would have learned the fact. They 
 would have withdrawn their help, and avenged my 
 murder. You know I speak the truth. You were 
 mad to harbor the thought of opposing my will. 
 Your brother the great and warlike Tecumseh 
 is my friend. What would he have said to 
 you?" 
 
 The Prophet shivered and was silent. Bradford 
 hastened to conclude : 
 
 ' ' L<et us have a final understanding, then. This 
 young man is my friend ' ' 
 
 " Hold ! " testily interrupted Douglas, who had 
 been chafing under the oft-repeated assertion. 
 "I'll not admit that I'm your friend, to save my 
 life, even." 
 
 Tenskwatawa uttered a grunt of surprise. But 
 Scar Face resumed placidly : 
 
 "He is my friend, although he denies it. But 
 he is an American ; and as an American, is the 
 enemy of the redmen and their allies, the English. 
 This morning he fought against us ; he would fight 
 against us again. Therefore we shall keep him 
 prisoner. But he must receive neither insult nor
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 123 
 
 injury at our hands. Tenskwatawa, you have 
 made two mistakes within the last twenty-four 
 hours. You must not forget your promise to me 
 and thereby make another. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa will not forget his promise, ' ' the 
 Prophet answered humbly. 
 
 Bradford approached the Indian and whispered a 
 few words in his ear. The latter nodded and 
 glanced toward Douglas. Then the two white 
 men and the dog withdrew from the lodge. When 
 they were out of sight and hearing, the Prophet 
 stamped the earth and tore his hair, in a frenzy of 
 impotent rage. 
 
 On reaching the open air, Bradford turned to 
 his companion and said briskly : 
 
 "Wait for me here. I'll be gone but a few 
 minutes." 
 
 And without tarrying for an answer, he disap- 
 peared around the corner of the building. On his 
 return he remarked : 
 
 " Well, we have escaped from our difficulty. It 
 was a bold plan that I followed but the only one ; 
 and it succeeded admirably. But Tenskwatawa is 
 a weak and treacherous villain, and will bear close 
 watching. His success in overpowering Winnemac 
 made him reckless mad." 
 
 "Do you think he'll keep his promise?" Ross 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then you are safe; and I'll return to the 
 army. ' '
 
 124 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' But you can't, ' ' Bradford answered smilingly. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you are my prisoner." 
 
 Douglas's anger arose ; and he answered hotly : 
 
 " Your prisoner ! Hiram Bradford, you saved 
 my life. Then I accompanied you here, that the 
 vengeance of the savages might not fall upon you 
 that you might not suffer for my escape. You 
 have cowed the Prophet you are safe. I'm go- 
 ing back to my friends. ' ' 
 
 "Again I say you cannot" 
 
 1 ' And again / say why ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Because you are my prisoner and must accom- 
 pany me whither I'm going. I have just given 
 the order that you be closely watched. Escape 
 is impossible. Give me your promise that you'll 
 not attempt it. ' ' 
 
 "I'll do nothing of the kind," Douglas cried 
 angrily. "Do you imagine for a moment I'll 
 submit to your high-handed proceeding ? Do you 
 think I'll remain a captive when the way of 
 escape lies open ? ' ' 
 
 "There zs no way of escape, my boy," was the 
 cool reply. "You'll gracefully submit to the in- 
 evitable. ' ' 
 
 "Why have you done this thing?" demanded 
 Douglas, almost choking with fury. 
 
 " I ? " returned Bradford with lifted brows. ' ' I 
 have done nothing but save your life and look after 
 your safety. Your temerity led you into the lion's 
 jaws. They snapped shut and you are a pris-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 125 
 
 oner. And a prisoner you must remain for the 
 present. If I permit you to return to your people, 
 I endanger myself. Besides, you heard me promise 
 Tenskwatawa that I would hold you captive, to 
 keep you from fighting against the British and In- 
 dians, in the war that is surely coming. Then, I 
 have other reasons for desiring to keep you with 
 me reasons I don't care to divulge at present. 
 Come, be reasonable ! We shall be the best of 
 friends yet. I I have learned to like you, al- 
 though you persist in saying that you hate me 
 
 ' ' Hate you ! ' ' Ross broke forth. ' ' Hiram Brad- 
 ford, I despise you I loathe you ! You shall [pay 
 for this. Here, you are surrounded by hundreds of 
 murderous savages ready to do your bidding and 
 I'm helpless. But I have friends who will follow 
 and rescue me. Some day I shall meet you alone. 
 Then I'll plunge my knife into your black heart 
 and rid the world of a villain ! ' ' 
 
 "No no! You don't mean what you say 
 you cannot ! " gasped Bradford, his disfigured face 
 as pale as death and his lips quivering. 
 
 But Ross made no reply. Tossed by a tempest 
 of rage, he whirled and strode away to a distant 
 part of the inclosure. Bradford silently watched 
 the young man until he disappeared among the 
 groups of savages. Then the older man sunk his 
 chin upon his breast and groaned bitterly : 
 
 ' ' He hates me despises me ! God ! How 
 great is my punishment ! I love him ; I would
 
 \ 
 
 126 
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 gladly shed my last drop of blood for him. And 
 he loathes me would murder me ! " 
 
 A few minutes later, he was his cool, collected 
 self ; and was moving from place to place, search- 
 ing for Douglas.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IT WAS the middle of the forenoon. Ross Douglas 
 stood at one of the openings in the palisade, 
 moodily watching the stream of savages filing 
 through the gateway and setting out upon their 
 journey toward Wildcat Creek, twenty miles away. 
 The sun was bright ; the air was light and warm. 
 But Ross's heart was cold and heavy. His emo- 
 tions were at war. He condemned the impetuosity 
 that had led him into such a trap, and pronounced 
 himself a fool. He cursed the cowardice of the 
 soldiers who had neglected to follow up their ad- 
 vantage, and had left him to fall into the hands of 
 the Indians. And he gritted his teeth when he 
 thought of Bradford, who as he thought had 
 meanly deceived and tricked him. Then his 
 thoughts reverted to Franklinton and Amy Larkin 
 and he groaned aloud. 
 
 " I^et's be moving ; we have a long tramp before 
 us." 
 
 He glanced up and encountered the gaze of 
 Bradford. 
 
 "What's our destination? " Ross inquired stiffly. 
 
 "We are going to camp on Wildcat Creek, 
 twenty miles from here," Bradford returned pleas- 
 antly. 
 
 (127)
 
 128 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 1 ' Shall we cover the whole distance to-day ? ' ' 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "It's a long jaunt." 
 
 ' ' Do you consider it so ? " in evident surprise. 
 
 " Yes ; it's a longer walk than I feel inclined to 
 undertake. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Aren't you used to long journeys afoot ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I'm not accustomed to making them 
 against my will." 
 
 " Oh " and the older man smiled. " Perhaps 
 you'd prefer to ride." 
 
 "I'm no horseman." 
 
 ' ' I can easily overcome that difficulty. ' ' 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "I can have you tied on the animal's back," 
 was the frigid reply. 
 
 Douglas remained silent ; he was too angry to 
 speak. 
 
 "Come, now," Bradford said coaxingly. 
 "There's no use in kicking against fate. You're 
 going with me willingly or unwillingly. I 
 would be your friend. Don't force me to deal 
 harshly with you. You hate me, I know. But I 
 have your good at heart, and I'm your friend, in 
 spite of appearances in spite of all you may say 
 or think." 
 
 Tears were in the speaker's eyes, and his voice was 
 trembling. Ross looked at him wonderingly. For 
 a half minute both were silent. Then the younger 
 man said quietly : 
 
 "I'm ready."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 129 
 
 Side by side, the two dropped into the moving 
 line and passed through the gateway. 
 
 For an hour they walked onward over the un- 
 even ground, neither speaking. Squads of savages 
 were on all sides of them, all bearing in a south- 
 easterly direction. Some were mounted, some 
 were afoot. All were in a panic to escape from 
 the vicinity of Harrison's army. Squaws and 
 children bent and groaned under their burdens, 
 as they stumbled along ; but the haughty war- 
 riors, bearing their arms only, scorned to offer them 
 assistance. 
 
 Another hour passed. The sun had almost 
 reached the zenith. The way was growing 
 rougher, but with dogged persistence the rabble 
 pressed forward. 
 
 All this time the silence between Douglas and 
 his companion remained unbroken. Now the latter 
 laid his hand upon the former's arm and said: 
 
 ' ' You have had nothing to eat to-day ? ' ' 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 ' ' I have some dried-beef. Will you share it 
 with me ? ' ' 
 
 "Gladly." 
 
 They drew out of the line, and seated themselves 
 by the side of a small stream. Bradford produced 
 a quantity of dried-beef and a horn drinking-cup 
 from the pouch that hung at his side. Silently 
 they ate of the food and drank of the water from 
 the brook. Duke seated himself upon his haunches 
 and begged for his share. Ross patted the hound's 
 9
 
 130 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 head and tossed him several strips of the cured 
 flesh. Seeing which Bradford remarked : 
 
 "You'd better eat that meat yourself or save 
 it for another meal. The Indians, in their haste, 
 have left behind nearly all their supplies. There's 
 not food enough among them to last twenty-four 
 hours ; and the chance of procuring more isn't 
 good. Don't you see how the braves are scowling 
 at you as they pass? When there's scarcity of 
 food, the Indian eats sparingly ; his dog fasts. ' ' 
 
 " Yes, I know," Douglas returned as he dropped 
 another piece of beef into Duke's capacious mouth. 
 "I'm not unacquainted with their customs." 
 
 "And when famine threatens," Bradford pur- 
 sued, " they kill and eat their dogs." 
 
 " I'm aware of the fact." 
 
 "Do you catch my meaning? " 
 
 "I do." 
 
 Neither again spoke for some moments. Ross 
 noted that some of the Indians that passed were 
 munching parched corn and nibbling pieces of dried- 
 beef. Others had no food at all, apparently. 
 They looked gaunt and haggard, but stoically 
 plodded onward, without a murmur. 
 
 "Well, what do you think about it?" Bradford 
 asked suddenly. 
 
 "About what? " was the quiet rejoinder. 
 
 "You know what I mean. Shall I shoot the 
 dog?" 
 
 " Of course not," Ross answered unmoved. 
 
 "You can step aside and "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 131 
 
 " You're considerate of my feelings." 
 
 "Believe me, it's better so," Bradford went on 
 earnestly. 
 
 " It takes a large quantity of food to appease the 
 hunger of fifteen hundred human beings. The 
 supply is meager. Scarcity is already here ; abso- 
 lute want will soon arrive." 
 
 "A flattering prospect you hold out to your 
 guest," Ross remarked dryly. 
 
 "I'm telling you the truth, at any rate. By 
 the way, how much better off would you be with 
 Governor Harrison ? I know that the supplies of 
 the army were almost exhausted two days ago. 
 By this time, the soldiers are feasting on horse- 
 flesh." 
 
 "I should be a free man, at least," Douglas 
 interrupted in a tone ot deep dejection. 
 
 Bradford sighed as he resumed : 
 
 ' ' At this season of the year, game is scarce in 
 this locality. If the worst comes, the savages will 
 kill and eat all the horses and dogs in camp your 
 own surly brute included." 
 
 " Not until they have disposed of me," Ross 
 answered, his eyes flashing, his nostrils dilated. 
 
 " That's just what I fear. The dog will get you 
 into trouble. I^et me put a bullet through his 
 brain." 
 
 "The moment you do, I'll put one through 
 yours," was the fierce reply. "Let me hear no 
 more on the subject. That dog is one of the true 
 and disinterested friends I'm fortunate enough to
 
 1 32 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 have. He'd give his life for me I'd shed my 
 blood for him." 
 
 Again Bradford sighed deeply; but he said no more. 
 
 They arose, shouldered their guns, and resumed 
 their toilsome march. Just as they dropped into 
 the moving line of savages, Tenskwatawa, mounted 
 upon a magnificent black horse, a gift of the 
 English government, rode past them. At the side 
 of the clean-limbed steed, trotted a nimble, sure- 
 footed gray pony ; and seated upon its back was a 
 young woman. The robe of rich furs that enveloped 
 her person neatly concealed the fact that she rode 
 astride. The hood of her cloak was thrown back, 
 and a cataract of fine red-gold hair rippled down her 
 shoulders. Her face was beautiful, her skin milk- 
 white and satiny; and her eyes were the violet-blue 
 of the midsummer skies. The rein she held in her 
 small shapely hand was of braided horsehair, orna- 
 mented with shells and jingling coins ; and the 
 housings of her plump palfrey were of crimson 
 cloth, trimmed with a fringe of gold. 
 
 The Prophet sat stiffly erect in the saddle, looking 
 neither to the right nor to the left ; but not so, his 
 fair companion. Douglas and Bradford stepped aside 
 to let the riders pass. As they did so, the prisoner 
 glanced up and encountered the young woman's gaze 
 fixed upon him. He could not remove his eyes from 
 her face ; he did not try to do so. Boldly he stared 
 at her until her lids dropped, her cheeks flamed, 
 and the faintest hint of a smile parted her red lips, 
 revealing a row of even, white teeth. Then she
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 133 
 
 shyly peeped at him from under her long lashes ; 
 and turning aside her face, rode on. 
 
 Ross was surprised ; excited. He stood staring 
 after the lovely apparition his lips apart, his 
 chest heaving until Bradford, touching him on 
 the arm , said : 
 
 " What's the matter have you seen a ghost ? " 
 
 ' ' An angel, rather, " Douglas replied so solemnly 
 that his companion burst out laughing. 
 
 But the younger man did not join in the cider's 
 merriment. Instead, he asked impatiently : 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " An Indian squaw." 
 
 And Bradford continued to laugh as though 
 greatly amused. 
 
 ' ' Squaw ! ' ' Ross answered in a tone of deep dis- 
 gust. "She's no squaw not a half-breed, even. 
 She's a vision of loveliness. If she be mortal, she's 
 a pure Caucasian. Who is she ? ' ' 
 
 " Tenskwatawa's daughter," replied Bradford, 
 his bright eyes twinkling mischievously. 
 
 "The Prophet's daughter bah!" was the 
 scornful rejoinder. " Do you expect me to believe so 
 transparent a falsehood ? Do you think me blind ? 
 She's a Caucasian, I tell you. Her eyes, her com- 
 plexion, her hair all indicate the fact." 
 
 "You forget there are red-headed Indians," Brad- 
 ford suggested. 
 
 ' ' I forget nothing. I have seen red-haired sav- 
 ages. But their complexions were swarthy, their 
 eyes black."
 
 134 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "And I've seen them fair, with blue eyes and 
 auburn hair." 
 
 "They were of mixed blood, then," Douglas said 
 positively. 
 L "Possibly." 
 
 " Possibly ! You know they were. No Indian, 
 male or female, pure blood or cross-breed, could be 
 as fair as this young woman. Her features, her 
 manner, her every characteristic bespeaks the white 
 blood in her veins and stamps her as a white woman. 
 You're trying to deceive me. Now tell me. Who 
 is she ? " 
 
 ' ' I have told you what Tenskwatawa says and 
 what his iribe believes. Like you, he calls her an 
 angel, and tells how the Great Spirit sent her to 
 him." 
 
 Again Bradford was smiling, a peculiar, unfath- 
 omable smile. 
 
 " The lying impostor stole her somewhere," Ross 
 answered earnestly. 
 
 His companion continued to smile, but said noth- 
 ing. 
 
 " How long has she been among the savages?" 
 the younger man pursued. 
 
 "Since her birth, perhaps. How should I 
 know." 
 
 " But you do know." 
 
 Again the older man was silent. 
 
 " Why do you refuse to answer my questions? " 
 Ross cried irritably. 
 
 Once more that peculiar, fleeting smile elevated
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 135 
 
 the corners of Bradford's mouth and accentuated 
 the puckered scar upon his cheek. 
 
 Swiftly the two strode forward, overtaking and 
 passing groups of stragglers, as they went. De- 
 scending into the river valley, they overhauled the 
 main body of savages ; and with them crossed the 
 stream. As they were toiling up the opposite slope, 
 Douglas turned to his companion and asked sud- 
 denly : 
 
 "What's her name?" 
 
 "The Indians call her La Violette," Bradford 
 answered, as he gave a hitch to the pouch at his 
 side and shifted his gun from one shoulder to the 
 other. 
 
 " Ah ! " Ross ejaculated. 
 
 " What do you mean by that knowing exclama- 
 tion? " the older man inquired sharply. 
 
 " Nothing ; only " 
 
 "Only what?" 
 
 " That's not an Indian name." 
 
 " No?" 
 
 " No, it's not. It's French." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And it signifies? " 
 
 " You know its significance as well as I. La Vio- 
 lette means the violet." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Her name confirms my belief. She's a white 
 woman." 
 
 "Ah!"
 
 136 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' Yes. The appellation refers to the color of her 
 eyes." 
 
 ' ' Do you think she's French ? ' ' 
 
 "I don't know but you do, Hiram Bradford. 
 Some person familiar with the French language 
 gave her the name. She's a prisoner was kid- 
 napped when a child, probably." 
 
 " What a keen observer and logician you are," 
 Bradford chuckled dryly. 
 
 "I'm no blind fool, at any rate," Douglas re- 
 torted angrily. 
 
 Then in an injured, half-pleading tone : 
 
 " Why don't you tell me all you know of her? " 
 
 " Why should I?" laughed the other, huskily. 
 " You're making your own observations and draw- 
 ing your own conclusions. And no doubt your 
 preconceived opinions would remain unshaken, no 
 matter what I might say." 
 
 " I have formed my opinions from what you've 
 told me and what I've seen." 
 
 " Is it possible you give credence to my words? " 
 
 ' ' Of course " in a surprised tone. ' ' Why not ? " 
 
 " I know of no reason except this : You hate me 
 consider me an enemy and doubt my integ- 
 rity." 
 
 Bradford said this in a voice thick with emotion. 
 Ross stopped and stared hard at the speaker. He 
 felt himself imperceptibly drawn toward the man. 
 His heart was gradually softening as wax in a 
 warm hand. To relieve his embarrassment and 
 conceal his feelings, he returned gruffly :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 137 
 
 ' ' But you have told me the truth in this in- 
 stance ? " 
 
 "So far as I've told you anything yes. But 
 why are you so interested in the Prophet's daughter ? 
 Are you so susceptible are you already smitten 
 that you insist on throwing such a glamor of ro- 
 mance around her ? ' ' 
 
 " Nonsense ! " Douglas exclaimed. 
 
 But his cheeks flushed ; and he did not meet his 
 companion's steady gaze. 
 
 "Have a care!" Bradford cried. And Ross 
 could not tell from his countenance, whether he 
 meant his words in jest or in earnest. "You must 
 not set your affections there. The Prophet's an- 
 gelic daughter cannot be for such as you a despised 
 paleface, a inember of the Seventeen Fires. Tensk- 
 watawa has placed her above all things earthly. His 
 followers idolize her worship her. She has as 
 much influence with them, almost, as the Prophet 
 or Tecumseh. Stern chiefs have sighed for her ; 
 young braves have died for her. Her smile is con- 
 sidered a benediction ; her frown, a calamity. Her 
 word -is law. It is said she twists Tenskwatawa 
 around her finger and holds Tecumseh under her 
 thumb " 
 
 ' ' And you accuse me of throwing a glamor of 
 romance around her," Ross smilingly interrupted. 
 
 Bradford laughed heartily and continued : 
 
 ' ' At any rate, you'll do well to heed my warn- 
 ing. I don't want to see you cut into giblets, for 
 daring to aspire to her heart and hand. Shun her
 
 138 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 presence as you would shun a pestilence. Tensk- 
 watawa's daughter is not for you." 
 
 Douglas, looking at the speaker, again encount- 
 ered that inscrutable smile. 
 
 Both remained thoughtful and silent for some time 
 all the while steadily plodding onward. The sun 
 declined toward the western horizon. The surface 
 of the country through which they were passing 
 was seamed with gullies and ravines. The trail 
 sprang from one, only to tumble headlong into an- 
 other. Precipitous hills succeeded sloping eleva- 
 tions. The forest grew denser. Just as the sun 
 dropped into the brown billows of the prairie beyond 
 the Wabash and disappeared, the long line of weary 
 and hungry savages began to descend into the valley 
 of Wildcat Creek. 
 
 Here the trail was narrow and difficult. Douglas 
 and his companion were marching with the main 
 body of Indians immediately behind Tenskwat- 
 awa and his daughter. The shadows gathered 
 around them ; the air grew chill. The sharp click 
 of a hoof upon a loose stone, or the guttural excla- 
 mation of a stumbling brave alone broke the silence. 
 Into Ross Douglas's mind came the thought to dart 
 into the bushes, that bordered the winding path, arid 
 attempt to escape. Hurriedly he glanced around 
 him impatiently he awaited a favorable oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 "Don't think of such a thing," said Bradford's 
 husky voice in his ear. 
 
 Douglas started. Was it possible his companion
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 139 
 
 read his thoughts ? He returned in a tone of well- 
 assumed surprise : 
 
 " Don't think of what? " 
 
 " You have it in mind to try to escape," was the 
 quiet reply. ' ' Banish the thought the attempt 
 means death. Don't you see the braves have drawn 
 close around us and are watching your every move- 
 ment? " 
 
 " Y-e-s," Ross hesitatingly admitted. " At whose 
 order has it been done ? " 
 
 "Mine." 
 
 " I didn't hear you speak." 
 
 "It wasn't necessary a sign was sufficient. 
 No, you'd be taking a foolhardy risk to " 
 
 The sentence was cut short by a storm of shouts 
 and exclamations coming from the head of the 
 column, farther down the trail. A pack-horse, 
 stumbling, had fallen from the narrow path into a 
 deep ravine. The tumult raised by the savages 
 frightened several others of the beasts of burden ; 
 and they whirled and came flying back up the trail. 
 These in turn stampeded others still and the 
 whole swept the narrow way like an avalanche. 
 
 Ross Douglas heard and understood all. In the 
 panic that was sure to ensue he saw a chance to es- 
 cape. To right and to left sprang the warriors. Ross 
 loosened the knife in his belt, firmly gripped his 
 rifle, and was ready to dart away in the darkness. 
 
 " Quick ! " shouted Bradford. " Let's scramble 
 up this bank. Quick or we shall be trampled to 
 death ! "
 
 1 40 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Grabbing Douglas by the arm, he sought to drag 
 him in that direction. But the younger man held 
 back. > The thunderous roar of the galloping horses 
 drew nearer. They turned a sharp bend in the 
 road and loomed into view. In the gloom they 
 resembled a rapidly approaching thundercloud. 
 Tenskwatawa's black steed neighed wildly and, 
 taking the bit in his teeth, whirled and dashed 
 away. The gray pony crouched in its tracks and 
 trembled. Douglas jerked loose from his compan- 
 ion's restraining grasp and leaped toward the brink 
 of the ravine on the right, intending to drop into 
 the depths. But at that moment La Violette's shrill 
 scream of affright smote upon his ear. Abandoning 
 all idea of escape, forgetting his own danger 
 everything, he threw down his gun and sprang to 
 her assistance. 
 
 " My God !" groaned Bradford, staggering to- 
 ward a place of safety. ' ' Both will be killed ! In 
 my excitement I didn't think of her. Too late 
 too late!" 
 
 Reaching the bank on the left, he sank upon 
 the ground and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 A bound brought Douglas to the young woman's 
 side. It was the work of a moment, to snatch her 
 from the saddle and bear her limp form up the 
 slope. Relieved of its fair burden, the terrorized 
 pony turned and fled up the trail, with the stam- 
 peding pack-horses snorting and panting behind it. 
 As they labored up the steep grade, with their 
 heavy packs still clinging tenaciously to them, their
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 141 
 
 terror gradually subsided ; and near the top of the 
 hill, the Indians surrounded and caught them. 
 
 When the stampede had thundered by, Bradford 
 got upon his feet and stared wildly around. In the 
 deep gloom he caught a dim outline of Douglas 
 supporting the trembling form of L,a Violette. Run- 
 ning to them, he exclaimed in a voice faltering with 
 emotion : 
 
 " Both of you are alive. But are you unharmed?" 
 
 " Unharmed and untouched," Ross replied 
 calmly. 
 
 "Thank God ! " was the fervent response. 
 
 The young woman lifted her head from Douglas's 
 shoulder and, gently withdrawing from his em- 
 brace, said tremulously : 
 
 ' ' I sincerely thank you for rescuing me from 
 death. But I do not know you. Will you tell me 
 to whom I owe my life ? " 
 
 She spoke in excellent English, but with a 
 slightly foreign accent. After a moment's silence, 
 Ross answered : 
 
 " My name is Ross Douglas." 
 
 ' ' You are an American ? ' ' 
 
 "I am." 
 
 ' ' And a prisoner ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Extending a small, warm hand which Douglas 
 quickly imprisoned in his broad palm she re- 
 marked naively : 
 
 ' ' You risked your life to rescue me from danger, 
 although you are an enemy of my people. I will
 
 1 42 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 not forget your valor. I will do what I can to pro- 
 cure your release " 
 
 "Perhaps, La Violette, you are not aware that 
 your rescuer is my prisoner," Bradford interjected, 
 laughing. 
 
 Petulantly stamping her moccasined foot, she re- 
 plied proudly : 
 
 ' ' I neither know nor care whose prisoner he is. 
 He has saved me from a horrible death ; I will be- 
 friend him." 
 
 Then hastily withdrawing her hand from Ross's 
 detaining clasp : 
 
 " But my father ! Where is he ? " 
 
 " Have no fear for Tenskwatawa's safety," Brad- 
 ford said in reassuring tones. ' ' His horse carried 
 him out of danger. Ah ! I hear the sound of hoofs. 
 He's returning." 
 
 The panic-stricken savages were resuming the 
 march. Down the trail came a body of braves with 
 the runaway pack-horses. At their head rode the 
 Prophet, leading his daughter's pony. 
 
 ' ' La Violette ! L,a Violette ! " he called wailingly . 
 
 "Here, father here I am," she answered in a 
 clear, bird-like voice, as she descended to the trail. 
 
 Tenskwatawa sprang to the ground and, enfold- 
 ing her in his strong arms, murmured gutturally : 
 
 "The Great Spirit is very kind. He spared your 
 life, my daughter." 
 
 "Yes, father," La Violette assented; "but the 
 young paleface carried me out of the way of dan- 
 ger."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 143 
 
 "Who? " in a low, fierce tone. 
 
 " Fleet Foot," Bradford answered from the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' the Prophet grunted ungraciously. 
 
 Then he quickly lifted the young woman to her 
 saddle ; and, remounting his own steed, again set 
 forward. Bradford and Douglas closely followed 
 the two. The young scout had recovered his rifle, 
 and was again watching for a chance to dart away in 
 the darkness. But the Indians were close about 
 the risk was too great. He felt that in saving La 
 Violette's life he had thrown away his one oppor- 
 tunity of regaining his freedom ; and he tried to 
 condemn himself for a sentimental fool. But when 
 he essayed to shape the thought in his mind, the 
 girl's fair face arose before him and rebuked him. 
 
 An hour after darkness had fallen, the Indians 
 encamped upon the site of an old village. Several 
 ramshackle huts were still standing. Two of these 
 Tenskwatawa appropriated to his own and his 
 daughter's use. Bradford seized upon a third for 
 himself and his prisoner. 
 
 Soon huge fires were blazing along the banks of 
 the stream, effectually dispelling the cold and dark- 
 ness. The savages cooked a liberal part of the food 
 they had; and like true children of the forest 
 feasted upon it, nor asked how or whence more was 
 to be obtained. 
 
 In the middle of the dirt floor of one of the cab- 
 ins standing near the creek bank a fire burned 
 brightly. The smoke escaped through a hole in
 
 144 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the dilapidated bark roof. On opposite sides of the 
 pile of blazing faggots sat Bradford and Douglas. 
 
 "Are you sorry you didn't escape at the time 
 of the stampede ? ' ' the former asked suddenly. 
 
 "Of course," returned the other, without look- 
 ing up. ' ' Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " Bradford chuckled, " I thought perhaps 
 the fact that you had formed the acquaintance of 
 the charming I^a Violette and had received her 
 promise of aid had reconciled you to captivity." 
 
 "It's unnecessary to make answer to such a 
 nonsensical supposition," Ross replied pettishly. 
 
 Then after a moment's silence : 
 
 " How long do you mean to keep me prisoner?" 
 
 "Truly, I don't know." 
 
 " A few weeks? " 
 
 ' ' Yes ; or months or years. " 
 
 " Humph ! Do you take me for a child? " Ross 
 cried scornfully. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " was the suave reply. 
 
 ' ' Do you expect me to make no further effort to 
 escape ? " 
 
 "I trust you won't." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 ' ' Because it would be useless dangerous. ' ' 
 
 "Useless ! What's to hinder me from stabbing 
 you to the heart, at this very moment, and making 
 my escape in the darkness? " 
 
 " Peep out at the door," Bradford returned coolly. 
 ' ' There's a better answer to your question than I 
 can give you. "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 145 
 
 Ross acted upon his companion's suggestion, and 
 beheld two stalwart braves standing guard, one on 
 each side of the doorway. Returning to the fire, 
 the young man flung himself upon the ground and 
 maintained a moody silence. 
 
 "There there!" the older man murmured 
 kindly. " Don't take it to heart. I must be cruel 
 to be kind. To-day I've allowed you to keep v 
 your arms, thinking you might need them to defend 
 yourself against the defeated and maddened Indians. 
 But that danger is past. And now I must ask 5 ? ou 
 to give them up. Will you hand them over quietly 
 or must I force you to give them up? " 
 
 "Why should I make useless resistance?" Doug- 
 las cried passionately. "You have me in your 
 power your red fiends stand ready to do your 
 bidding. Take my arms. But, remember you 
 shall pay dearly for the indignities you are heaping 
 upon me ! " 
 
 Hiram Bradford sighed deeply as he arose and 
 passed Ross's gun and knife through the door, to 
 one of the guards outside. Then, rolling himself in 
 his blanket and hugging his own rifle to his breast, 
 he remarked : 
 
 "I'm going to try to sleep. You'd better fol- 
 low my example." 
 
 Douglas made no reply. Duke curled up at his 
 master's side, and lay blinking at the red coals. The 
 fires gradually burned down; and slumber and 
 silence fell upon the camp. 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SEVERAL days passed. Ross Douglas's arms 
 were not restored to him. He was permitted 
 to wander about the camp at will ; but he 
 noted that whenever he approached the confines of 
 the place, two or more armed and watchful war- 
 riors were always near him. Each night he was 
 closely guarded ; each day he was constantly 
 watched. He evolved one plan of escape after an- 
 other only to cast them aside as impracticable. 
 He fumed and fretted it did no good, however. 
 He was still a prisoner and doomed to remain 
 such, so far as he could foresee. 
 
 Bradford remained cool, suave but inflexible as 
 steel. He procured for his prisoner the best the 
 camp afforded ; he granted him many privileges. 
 But all the while he maintained a rigid surveillance 
 over his every movement. Ross could not under- 
 stand the man or his motives ; nor could he ana- 
 lyze his own feelings toward him. One moment the 
 younger man enjoyed the older's company, and 
 chatted pleasantly with him ; the next he hated 
 the sight of the scarred face, and was ready to leap 
 upon its possessor and tear him limb from limb. 
 
 La Violette kept to herself. When she left her 
 cabin she did not mingle with the savages. An 
 (146)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 147 
 
 aged squaw was her attendant. More than once 
 Ross saw heir straying up and down the bank of the 
 stream. But she took no notice of his presence ; 
 and he did not approach her. Yet at night he met 
 her in the land of dreams, and held converse with 
 her. 
 
 Soon the small quantity of food the Indians 
 had brought with them from the Prophet's Town 
 was exhausted. Absolute want prevailed. Hunt- 
 ing parties went out in all directions, but returned 
 scantily laden with game. The Miamis left for 
 more favorable hunting-grounds ; the Winnebagoes 
 departed for their northern homes. But the Shaw- 
 nees, Pottawatomies, Delawares, and others re- 
 mained. The gaunt wolf of famine was staring 
 them in the face. Bradford's prediction came true. 
 The savages began to kill and eat their dogs and 
 horses. But Duke and his master still had corn- 
 bread and venison three times a day. 
 
 One morning Douglas, accompanied by the blood- 
 hound, was walking about the camp. In front of 
 Tenskwatawa's cabin he was met by a concourse of 
 braves, in the midst of which stalked a tall and 
 commanding figure. 
 
 ' ' Tecumseh ! " was the cry that rose oh all sides. 
 
 It was the redoubtable chieftain. Unheralded he 
 had returned from his southern tour, to find his 
 people defeated, discouraged, and in want. The 
 work of years had been undone in an hour. Cohe- 
 sion was lost, and the tribes were scattering. To 
 the great warrior's mind, his brother's egotism and
 
 148 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 precipitancy were to blame for it all. He had just 
 arrived. His handsome features were set and stern ; 
 his black eyes, ablaze with anger. 
 
 Unheeding the joyful shouts that greeted him, he 
 strode up to the Prophet's hut and unceremoniously 
 kicked open the rickety door. 
 
 " Tenskwatawa, come forth ! " he thundered. 
 
 A guttural exclamation, followed by the sound of 
 shuffling footsteps, came from within. Then the 
 Prophet, bowing and smiling, stood in the door- 
 way. 
 
 "Welcome, my brother!" were his words of 
 greeting. 
 
 Dashing aside the extended hand, Tecumseh cried 
 angrily : 
 
 ' ' How dare you bid me welcome to this poor 
 place you who have disobeyed my orders and de- 
 feated my purpose ! " 
 
 Tenskwatawa scornfully curled his lip, as he re- 
 plied : 
 
 ' ' My brother, after a long absence, returns to his 
 people. I bid him welcome and extend to him my 
 hand. He rejects it and, in answer to my greet- 
 ing drops angry words. I fail to understand his 
 meaning." 
 
 Tecumseh drew his magnificent figure to its full 
 height and keenly eyed the speaker. His deep 
 chest heaved spasmodically. The assembled war- 
 riors maintained a breathless silence. Instinctively 
 they knew that a struggle for the mastery was on 
 between the two Titans of the Shawnee tribe.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 149 
 
 "You know well what I mean!" Tecumseh at 
 last managed to articulate. " For years I have la- 
 bored to bring about a union of the tribes. I have 
 traveled far I have sat by many council-fires. 
 You offered me your advice and aid. I accepted 
 both. I loved and trusted you. Together we ac- 
 complished much. A few months ago I went to 
 visit our brothers of the land of flowers and sun- 
 shine. They have promised to join us in a war to 
 recover our own. When I started on my journey, I 
 cautioned you to do nothing that would excite the 
 suspicions or arouse the animosities of the Seven- 
 teen Fires. You promised to follow my advice 
 to obey my orders. But scarcely were my foot- 
 prints cold, ere you allowed our young men to go 
 forth to pillage and murder. You had certain 
 knowledge of this yet you winked at it. The 
 inevitable happened. I return to find my people 
 defeated humiliated. You, Tenskwatawa you 
 alone are to blame for all ! Wag your deceitful 
 tongue, and let our people know what excuse you 
 can fashion 1 ' ' 
 
 The Prophet's repulsive countenance was con- 
 torted with rage, as he burst forth : 
 
 " I have nothing to say to my children. I have 
 explained all to them ; and they are satisfied. But 
 to you, Tecumseh, my brother, I have this to say : 
 I have aided you ; I have furthered your plans. 
 You went away and left me to hold in check our 
 restless young men. They refused to listen to my 
 words. I could not control them. The palefaces
 
 ISO THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 sent an army against us. I talked with the Great 
 Spirit. He promised me the victory. My children 
 went into the battle. They fought valiantly; but they 
 were overcome. Smarting with defeat, they heaped 
 reproaches upon me. They buffeted me and spit 
 upon me. I bore it all. I showed them my power 
 I acknowledged my mistake. And all was well. 
 Now you come to abuse me. I have borne much 
 I will bear no more ! ' ' 
 
 Scarcely had the Prophet concluded, when Te- 
 cumseh, beside himself with boiling fury, shouted: 
 
 ' ' Yes, you will bear more you will bear this at 
 my hands ! " 
 
 Springing forward, he caught his brother by the 
 throat and choked him until his brutal face was 
 purple. The savages looked on in utter amaze- 
 ment ; but no one offered to interfere. Tenskwat- 
 awa's tongue protruded. He gurgled and gasped 
 for breath. Douglas turned his back upon the sick- 
 ening spectacle. As he did so, his eyes met those 
 of Bradford. In answer to the younger man's mute 
 appeal, the older sadly shook his head. Ross under- 
 stood. Not a soul in the assemblage dared to brave 
 Tecumseh's mad rage. 
 
 Nevertheless, there was one in the camp who did 
 not stand in awe of the great chief. That person 
 was L,a Violette. From her cabin door she had 
 noted Tecumseh's arrival, had observed the meeting 
 of the two brothers, and had witnessed their wordy 
 epcounter and its result. Now she appeared upon the 
 scene. The warriors saw her coming and respect-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 151 
 
 fully stepped aside to let her pass. With the speed 
 and grace of a fawn, she ran toward the spot where 
 the Prophet was struggling in the iron grasp of his 
 enraged brother. Her light feet appeared scarcely 
 to touch the groiind ; her unconfined tresses 
 streamed behind her ; her violet eyes sparkled with 
 excitement. 
 
 A small white hand was laid upon Tecumseh's 
 arm, and an imperious young voice commanded : 
 
 " Hold, noble chief ! Would you kill Tenskwat- 
 awa the prophet b'f his people my father ! " 
 
 Like one suddenly recalled from a delirium, Te- 
 cumseh loosened his hold upon his brother's throat 
 aind staggered back a step. Slowly he lifted his 
 eyes. They met those of I^a Violette and he 
 stood abashed before her. 
 
 The Prophet, released from the other's cruel 
 grasp, sank upon the ground, shivering and moan- 
 ing. The purplish hue forsook his face ; a deathly 
 pallor succeeded it. He attempted to arise, but his 
 limbs refused to do his bidding. His lips trembled. 
 He was overcome with fear. 
 
 L,a Violette looked upon the cowering wretch, 
 and her face flushed scarlet. Her violet eyes 
 snapped angrily. Shame not pity was in her 
 voice, as she cried : 
 
 ' ' Arise, father 1 You are not badly hurt. Here 
 let me help you." 
 
 Stooping, she assisted the craven to his feet. He 
 stared helplessly around him and could hardly 
 stand. With the whispered words, ' ' Go and hide
 
 152 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 your weakness I " La Violette pushed him into the 
 cabin. Then boldly walking up to Tecumseh and 
 taking him by the arm, she said in a low tone : 
 
 " Is it thus that wise men settle their differences ? 
 For shame ! Follow Tenskwatawa and come not 
 forth until you have a message of good cheer for 
 your disheartened people." 
 
 Tecumseh haughtily straightened his lithe form 
 and folded his arms upon his chest, as though about 
 to resent her cutting words. But again their eyes 
 met and, bowing differentially, he stalked into 
 the hut, closing the door after him. 
 
 La Violette like Tecumseh and Tenskwatawa 
 had spoken in the Shawnee tongue; but Brad- 
 ford and Douglas, standing near, had heard and 
 understood every word. Now she stepped in front 
 of the two white men and, addressing the older, de- 
 manded in English : 
 
 ' ' Scar Face, why did you not interfere in Tensk- 
 watawa's behalf ? " 
 
 " I didn't dare," Bradford replied truthfully. 
 
 "Dare!" tossing her head contemptuously 
 " Are you not a man? " 
 
 "Yes; but " 
 
 " But a coward?" 
 
 Bradford's face colored a dull red as he answered : 
 
 " La Violette, you know I'm no coward what- 
 ever else I may be. But it would have been worse 
 than useless for me to interfere. I should have 
 incurred Tecumseh's lasting displeasure and 
 accomplished nothing."
 
 TffE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 153 
 
 "Did /not accomplish something?" she cried 
 disdainfully. ' ' And are you not stronger than I ? " 
 
 " Stronger, yes," Bradford replied calmly. "In 
 your weakness lies your strength. Tecumseh and 
 Tenskwatawa grant you privileges they would 
 accord to no other. You can safely do and say 
 things for which another would be sentenced to 
 death!" 
 
 "Bah! You lack courage you fear death!" 
 she retorted scornfully. "You are afraid of the 
 great Shawnee chief and his brother, the Prophet. 
 Yet you are the agent of the English sent among 
 the tribes to counsel and guide them. Do you think 
 Tecumseh and Tenskwatawa have strengthened 
 their influence over their people, by quarreling be- 
 fore them by making a spectacle of themselves?" 
 
 Bradford silently shook his head. Douglas 
 looked with wonder and awe upon the frail, beaut- 
 eous being before him. Her face was alight with 
 animation ; her form quivering with restrained feel- 
 ing. Ross had seen the influence she exerted 
 over the two crafty Shawnees. A sudden realiza- 
 tion of wherein lay the real strength of the Indian 
 confederacy flashed upon his mind ; and he started 
 and changed color. 
 
 La Violette proceeded : 
 
 ' ' Hiram Bradford, you are the agent of the Brit- 
 ish. You are here to look after their interests. Are 
 you fulfilling your mission when you allow the two 
 great organizers of the confederacy madly to tear 
 down all they have built ? lyook ! Look at the braves
 
 154 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 of the different tribes talking among themselves. Do 
 yo'u not know what it means? Winnemac is jeal- 
 ous of Tenskwatawa ; Stone Eater covets Tecum- 
 seh's power and place ; White Loon is ripe for 
 revolt. The warriors are defeated, dispirited. They 
 stand ready to join in open rebellion and follow a 
 new leatder a new prophet. The edifice that Te- 
 cumseh and Tenskwatawa have built is tottering to 
 its fall. The open quarrel between the two has 
 further weakened its crumbling foundation. When 
 Tecumseh arrived but a few minutes ago the 
 braves greeted him with shouts of joy. Now all 
 are sullen and silent. Listen ! Some are whisper- 
 ing that Tecumseh is in the right ; others are say- 
 ing that Tenskwatawa cannot be in the wrong. But 
 by far the greater number are declaring for a new 
 leader and a new prophet. Are you blind and 
 deaf, Scar Face? Have not the English made com- 
 mon cause with the Indians? Tecumseh' s over- 
 throw Tenskwatawa' s downfall mean ruin to 
 the plans and projects of your people. Rouse your- 
 self ! There is work for you to do. All may yet 
 be well ; but the breach between Tecumseh and the 
 Prophet must be closed. Will 3 ? ou come with me 
 and help to do it ? " 
 
 " Yes,'' Bradford answered meekly, an expression 
 of great perplexity Upon his scarred visage. ' ' But 
 what can I do ? ' 
 
 ' ' Come. I will show you. ; ' 
 
 Taking him by the hand, she led him into the 
 Prophet's hut,
 
 155 
 
 Like one in a trance, Douglas stood staring 
 at the closed f door. He was dazed thunder- 
 struck. 
 
 ' ' Am I mad or dreaming ? " he muttered to 
 himself. " Who is she what is she ? So young 
 so beautiful ! I thought her a helpless cap- 
 tive ; I find her the power behind the throne. All 
 is mystery chaos. Bradford's an impenetrable 
 sphinx, but she she's an inexplicable riddle. She's 
 no ignorant savage ; she's an intelligent, edu- 
 cated white woman. What then? She's not 
 Tenskwatawa's daughter that's plain. But who 
 is she ? What does she among the Indians ? Brad- 
 ford, even, bends to her will. She regards the sav- 
 ages as her people ; she's hand and glove with the 
 English. Evidently she hates all Americans. And 
 she didn't deign to notice me" with a sigh 
 "who saved her life. So graceful so charm- 
 ing ; but mystery of mysteries ! She has forgotten 
 her promise to me ah ! " 
 
 He cut short his whispered soliloquy and quickly 
 glanced around him. In little groups and knots, 
 the braves were talking and gesticulating. Down 
 by the creek, half-naked children were paddling in 
 the icy water and shouting and laughing. Three 
 squaws, bearing bundles of fagots with which to re- 
 plenish the camp-fires, passed the spot where the 
 young man was standing. One of the trio a bent 
 and wrinkled hag revealed her toothless gums, in 
 a sardonic grin, and, pointing to Duke, cackled 
 hoarsely, in the Delaware language :
 
 156 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "See! See the dog. He is big and fat. The 
 sight of him makes my mouth water. What a 
 stew he would make ! Why has he not been 
 killed?" 
 
 " Come on," chuckled one of her younger com- 
 panions. ' ' The dog belongs to Fleet Foot. Do 
 you not see him standing there ? I know him he 
 used to buy furs of my father. But he is Scar Face's 
 prisoner now. Come on ! To-night the dog will 
 disappear from his master's side ; and to-morrow 
 we shall pick his bones. My husband told me. To- 
 morrow we shall feast. ' ' 
 
 "And the paleface Fleet Foot should die, 
 too, ' ' grumbled the third squaw. ' ' He has a great 
 appetite he eats much. And there is no food to 
 spare " 
 
 Then the three passed out of Ross's hearing. He 
 smiled grimly as he whispered to himself : 
 
 "So they would kill Duke to eat and kill me 
 to keep me from eating. And that comely Dela- 
 ware squaw remembers me. I wonder how many 
 others in the camp know me and how many 
 would befriend me, if I should appeal to them. And 
 I used to live among such beings ; they were my 
 associates, my friends. Bright Wing and a few 
 others alone remain true to me. By the way, I 
 wonder where that Wyandot and Joe Farley are. 
 Are they grieving over my strange disappearance ? 
 How excited the savages are. I will act upon the 
 idea that occurred to me a little while ago. Oh ! to 
 regain my liberty to see Amy once again "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 157 
 
 His soliloquy ended in a long-drawn sigh. 
 Softly whistling to the hound, he set off toward 
 the upper end of the camp. Apparently the In- 
 dians gave no heed to him, as he made his way 
 among them. Soon he had left them behind and 
 was at the eastern limit of the camp and alone. 
 
 At this point a shallow ravine sloped into the creek 
 from the south. Its bed was half-filled with logs 
 and brush, and its sides were covered with a dense 
 growth of tall bushes. 
 
 On reaching this natural barrier to his further 
 progress, Douglas stopped and hurriedly cast a 
 glance behind him. He was several hundred yards 
 from the nearest group of savages. What was to 
 hinder him from wriggling through the tangled 
 growth that lined both sides of the ravine, gaining 
 the open forest on the other side, and making his 
 escape ? The Indians, busy with their own affairs, 
 would not notice his absence for some time hours, 
 perhaps. True, he had no arms with which to pro- 
 tect himself from wild men and wild beasts, or 
 with which to procure game ; but he could hide 
 during the daytime, travel at night, and live upon 
 bark and roots until he reached a settlement. He 
 resolved to make the venture. Hope rose high in 
 his breast. He whirled to take a final look at the 
 camp. As he did so, his heart sank into his moc- 
 casins. Unperceived by him, three warriors had 
 crept along under the shelter of the creek bank, and 
 now stood a few yards from him, closely eyeing his 
 movements and grinning broadly.
 
 158 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Mentally cursing his ill-luck, Ross turned to re- 
 trace his steps toward camp. At that moment 
 Duke rubbed against his leg and whined softly. 
 
 "What is it, old fellow?" the master asked, 
 stooping and patting the dog's head. 
 
 Again the hound w T hined plaintively, and rolled 
 his great eyes toward the ravine a feet away. 
 
 " Something in there, eh ? " 
 
 Duke wagged his tail and capered about. Ross's 
 heart beat tumultuously. 
 
 "It must be a friend, then," he murmured 
 tremulously. "If it were an enemy man or 
 beast he'd growl. Can it be possible that 
 Bright Wing or Joe " 
 
 ' ' Hist ! ' ' was the faint whisper that came to the 
 young man's ears and interrupted his cogitations. 
 
 Duke gave a short, sharp yelp of joy. 
 
 ' ' Hist ! ' ' said the voice again in the softest 
 whispered tone. "I see you, Ross Douglas an' 
 I see the redskins watchin' you. Me an' Bright 
 Wing's hid in the brush here. Don't look 'round, 
 fer God's sake ! Do you hear an' understand 
 me?" 
 
 Douglas slyly nodded. 
 
 "Well," continued Farley's voice, "listen to 
 what I'm goin' to say. We've been hidin' 'round 
 the camp fef three 'r four days. We've come to 
 rescue you but we can't do it this time; you're 
 too close watched. Go back to camp an' never let 
 on you've heerd anything. We hain't had a bite to 
 eat fer twenty-four hours. We've got to move
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 159 
 
 away from here an' hunt somethin'. To-morrer 
 evenin' at dusk, stray out here ag'in. Bring a gun 
 an' ammynition with you, if you can. Come any- 
 how. We'll git you out o' y'r scrape 'r die a-tryin' 
 
 we will, by Kizziar ! Now go an' tie up the 
 dog. He might come nosin' 'round an' spile every- 
 thing. You hear all I say? " 
 
 Again Ross almost imperceptibly nodded. 
 
 "All right. Be off the Injins is watchin' you 
 mighty close an' suspicious-like. " 
 
 Dropping his chin upon his breast, the young 
 man walked toward camp, the bloodhound trotting 
 at his heels. The intelligent animal djd not so 
 much as cast a look behind him. Shouldering their 
 guns, the three warriors brought up the rear. 
 
 On reaching the center of the camp, Douglas per- 
 ceived the savages flocking toward the Prophet's 
 cabin. He followed them ; and in front of the door 
 saw Tecumseh and his companions. The great 
 chief was addressing the multitude : 
 
 " My warriors and people, I returned from the 
 land of sunshine and flowers, to find you defeated 
 and scattered. In my anger, I heaped censure and 
 abuse upon one who was not to blame. I lost con- 
 trol of myself I bow my head in shame as I 
 acknowledge it. Tenskwatawa has done well ; no 
 one could have done better. / could not have done 
 better. He is your prophet. You know his power 
 
 you trust him wisely. We have met with tem- 
 porary defeat, but final success shall be ours." 
 IvUsty whoops and cheers. "The tribes of the
 
 160 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 north and west are steadfast ; the tribes of the 
 south have promised to join us. The Seventeen 
 Fires shall feel our might. Our white brothers 
 across the big water will still aid us. We shall re- 
 gain the land that is ours ; we shall repossess the 
 graves of our fathers. In a few days we shall re- 
 move to the villages of the Miamis, upon the Mis- 
 sissinewa. There we will bide our time await our 
 opportunity. It will not be long in coming. Hun- 
 dreds of braves will join us. Their number will be 
 greater than the leaves of the forest. The Seven- 
 teen Fires will tremble at the tread of the brave 
 redmen and their English friends. Scar Face " 
 and he laid his hand upon Bradford's shoulder 
 "is your friend.' He has advised and helped us 
 in the past ; he will continue to do so. He will see 
 that our brothers across the big water send us 
 plenty of arms, ammunition, blankets, and food." 
 Prolonged cheering and yells of delight. " I have 
 done. Tenskwatawa, my brother, whom I love and 
 honor" he affectionately placed his arm around 
 the Prophet's neck ' ' has something to tell you 
 that you will be glad to hear. Let him speak." 
 
 The grave and dignified chief waved his hand 
 and, drawing his blanket around him, re-entered 
 the hut. The assemblage went wild. Warriors 
 shouted, danced, and yelled ; squaws shrieked and 
 children screamed. Those who had been foremost 
 in the contemplated revolt lent their voices to the 
 mad uproar. Such was the magnetic power of the 
 great Tecumseh !
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 161 
 
 Now the Prophet stepped forward and raised his 
 right hand, to command silence. As he did so, the 
 magic circlet upon his finger caught the rays of the 
 sun. A hush fell upon his audience, broken only 
 by the breezy whisper, ' ' The Sign of the Prophet ! 
 The Sign of the Prophet ! "Then all was pro- 
 found silence. Tenskwatawa swayed gracefully 
 rhythmically to and fro, as he began : 
 
 ' ' The past is gone ; the present is before us ; the 
 future is in the hands of the Great Spirit. My 
 children, we have made mistakes. Now let us bury 
 them forever ; and with them our sorrows, our dis- 
 appointments, and our regrets. If ever again I 
 transfer my power my sign to another, it will 
 be to one who can use it. And you will obey the 
 orders of that one, as you would obey my words. 
 Hold fast to what I say. Listen ! Again I have 
 talked with the Great Spirit. He has sent me to 
 you with a message of good cheer. He allowed 
 you to suffer defeat to try your courage to test 
 your loyalty. You have suffered much you shall 
 rejoice more. You have groaned at your failure 
 you shall shout in triumph. You hunger to-day 
 you shall feast to-morrow. Hear what the Great 
 Spirit says through me, his prophet. All that 
 Tecumseh, my brother, has told you is true. All 
 that you desire shall be yours. You have been 
 scorched by the fire of death you shall be healed 
 by the water of life. I am your father you are 
 my children. The Great Spirit has told me all 
 these things. ' '
 
 1 62 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 He stopped speaking. A faint murmur of ap- 
 probation started with those immediately in front. 
 It grew and swelled into a thunderous roar of ap- 
 plause. "The Open Door! The Open Door!" 
 they yelled until their faces were purple and their 
 lips dripped foam. Many of them fell to the 
 ground and raised their arms supplicatingly. Si- 
 lencing them with a wave of his hand, Tensk- 
 watawa proceeded : 
 
 "Listen, my children and heed what I say! 
 Your acts, your words, your thoughts, are known 
 to the Great Spirit and through him are known 
 to me. You have cursed your prophet ; you have 
 planned to depose Tecumseh and Tenskwatawa 
 to choose others to lead and advise you. The 
 Great Spirit understood all. But all is forgiven ; 
 for you were mad with defeat and shame." 
 
 Again he paused. Closely he scanned their faces 
 for the effect of his words. The stillness of death 
 reigned on all sides. The ringleaders in the revolt 
 bowed their heads and glanced furtively at the 
 dread being before them. Suddenly the Prophet's 
 whole attitude and manner changed. Every sinu- 
 osity of his graceful body became a hard, straight 
 line. Rigidly erect, his brows lowering, his face 
 contorted, his one sinister eye flashing he was an 
 avenging demon. 
 
 ' ' Listen ! " he shouted in thunder tones. ' ' My 
 children, you have displeased the Great Spirit. 
 Another word another thought of the kind, 
 and he will desert your cause and ally himself with
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 163 
 
 the Seventeen Fires. If there be one among you 
 that doubts my words, let him stand forth ; and 
 through the power the Great Spirit has bestowed 
 upon me, I will slay him with a look. With a 
 motion of my hand I can smite you blind. Do you 
 still doubt ? You have seen what I did with the 
 noble Winnemac. Is not White Loon as brave and 
 strong? Is not Stone Eater as valiant and bold? 
 Look then ! " 
 
 Again he was the bending, swaying, sinuous 
 hypnotist. The glittering talisman upon his finger 
 shot its light into the eyes of the two chiefs. Like 
 charmed birds they fluttered and tried to free them- 
 selves from its spell. Their frantic efforts were 
 vain. Then they became stiff motionless, seeing 
 nothing but the magic ring, hearing nothing but 
 the Prophet's voice. 
 
 "Come! " he cried. 
 
 In straight lines the two chiefs advanced. 
 
 Bradford paled slightly. La Violette turned aside 
 her face. Ross Douglas had his eyes fastened upon 
 the glittering jewel. Slowly he began to move for- 
 ward. Many others were coming under the hyp- 
 notic influence were approaching Tenskwatawa. 
 The young American shook himself, dropped his 
 eyes to earth and retreated to a safe distance. 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 Like automatons the chiefs obeyed. 
 
 "You see nothing you are blind ! " 
 
 Tenskwatawa' s voice rang out clear and cold. 
 Scores of the savages clapped their hands to their
 
 1 64 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 eyes and groaned aloud. Stone Eater and White 
 Ix>on uttered piercing wails. 
 
 ' ' You are helpless you drop to the ground 
 you sleep ! ' ' 
 
 Down they fell like tenpins the two chiefs at 
 the Prophet's feet. 
 
 "Behold the work of the Great Spirit!" he 
 shouted triumphantly. " Now who doubts Tensk- 
 watawa's power? " 
 
 A full minute he waited for a reply. Awe 
 consternation were written upon the faces of those 
 who had not come under his influence. At last he 
 clapped his hands and cried shrilly : 
 
 ' ' Awake arise ! Live and see ! ' ' 
 
 Those upon the ground tumbled over one another, 
 in their efforts to get upon their feet. Rubbing 
 their eyes, they stared stupidly around. Then, in 
 a shame- faced manner, they silently slunk away from 
 the presence of the red hypnotist, who, dropping his 
 voice to a sing-song monotone, continued : 
 
 ' ' Yes, my children, all will be well. Your chief, 
 the great and powerful Tecumseh, has spoken 
 words of truth and wisdom. Do not despair ; be 
 steadfast to our cause. The Great Spirit is with us 
 and all will be well. He has promised. In a 
 few days, at most, we will go to the Mississinewa. 
 Our white brothers across the lakes and beyond the 
 big water will send us supplies. Also, we will 
 make our enemy the Seventeen Fires furnish 
 us with salt and ammunition. All will be well. 
 The Great Spirit, through his prophet, has spoken. ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 165 
 
 Tenskwatawa rejoined Tecumseh within the 
 hut ; L/a. Violette returned to her own cabin. The 
 Indians cheered and capered about in an ecstasy of 
 delight. This lasted for several minutes. Then 
 they quietly dispersed and commenced the prepara- 
 tion of their dinners. All thought of rebelling 
 against the rule of the self -elected chief and self- 
 appointed prophet was at an end. The kingly 
 presence and sturdy eloquence of the one, coupled 
 with the serpentine grace and mesmeric power of 
 the other, had the desired effect upon the minds 
 of the ignorant and superstitious redmen. The 
 threatened revolt was at an end. 
 
 "Well, what do you think of Tecumseh?" re- 
 marked Bradford, as he approached the spot where 
 Douglas was standing. 
 
 ' ' He's every inch a warrior, ' ' Ross replied 
 quietly. 
 
 1 'And every inch a man, ' ' was the quick rejoinder. 
 
 "But a savage, still." 
 
 ' ' Yes. But a savage whose valor is equaled by 
 his honor, whose thirst for fame and power is tem- 
 pered by his sense of right and justice. He has 
 the good of his people at heart ; he believes their 
 cause is just " 
 
 " Can you say as much for the English, who are 
 urging the Indians to take up the hatchet against 
 the Americans?" Douglas interrupted. "Have 
 they the good of the savages at heart ? ' ' 
 
 Bradford laughed a forced, uneasy laugh as he 
 answered :
 
 1 66 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " Please don't interrupt me with ill-timed ques- 
 tions. That's a matter of national ethics a 
 problem that you and I cannot grasp or solve. It 
 would be useless for us to discuss it. We look at 
 it from different standpoints. You're an Ameri- 
 can ; I'm an " 
 
 "American, also," Ross interjected. 
 
 The older man sharply eyed his companion for a 
 half minute. Then he said slowly : 
 
 "You're a keen and intuitive observer. By 
 birth I am an American ; but I'm in the service of 
 the British, and bound to do their will. To return 
 to Tecumseh, he's the noblest Indian I've ever 
 met. He is the soul of honor the personification 
 of- manly courage. His word is as good as his 
 bond. His people trust him, love him. Had he 
 been at the Prophet's Town there would have been 
 no battle. He wished to avoid a conflict until he 
 was ready for it. But a general Indian war is com- 
 ing inevitably. The Americans will be arrayed 
 on one side ; the Indians and British on the other. 
 The Americans will fight to hold what they have 
 gained ; the savages, to regain what they have lost ; 
 the English, to add to their territory. You have 
 learned much since you've been a prisoner. It 
 wouldn't do to have you escape and return to your 
 people. A captive you must remain. ' ' 
 
 Bradford ceased speaking, but Douglas offered no 
 word in reply. The former resumed : 
 
 " Tenskwatawa, also, is a wonderful man. He's 
 eloquent, cunning, forceful."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 167 
 
 "He's a cowardly scoundrel!" Ross said 
 savagely. 
 
 "Yes," Bradford admitted, "he's a cowaid. I 
 don't admire him. He's a hypocritical knave. 
 But he's devoted to La Violette, and you can't 
 deny that he's shrewd and eloquent." 
 
 "No." 
 
 ' ' Nor can you explain the power he exercises 
 over his people. ' ' 
 
 Ross shook his head. 
 
 ' ' It's something wonderful, startling, uncanny. 
 The more I see of it, the more I'm puzzled. I 
 have felt it " 
 
 "And I." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "To-day." 
 
 ' ' Ah ! And yet you cannot understand it ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " It is strange very," Bradford remarked mus- 
 ingly. "He says he receives his power from the 
 Great Spirit. I'm not a believer in miracles ; yet, 
 for all I know, he tells the truth. But he has the 
 power there's no gainsaying that. You didn't 
 come completely under his influence?" 
 
 "No; but I should have done so if I hadn't 
 exerted all my will-power and removed my eyes 
 from the talisman his sign." 
 
 "I understand. Well, I'm hungry. Let's 
 hunt something to eat. ' '
 
 1 68 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " Where did he obtain the ring?" 
 
 " I don't know. He has had it for years. Come 
 on." 
 
 Together the two sauntered away from the 
 vicinity of the Prophet's cabin. 
 
 The day passed quietly. Several hunting-parties 
 returned to camp, laden with game. The savages 
 had an abundance of meat for supper and retired to 
 rest at an early hour. Bradford and Douglas 
 stretched upon the earthen floor of their hut and 
 fell asleep. Duke occupied his usual place. At 
 the door, stood the two copper-colored guards. 
 About midnight Bradford was aroused by the 
 sound of voices outside. He arose, softly opened 
 the door, and stepped out into the darkness. It 
 was raining steadily. The two guards were 
 parleying with a company of braves who de- 
 manded that the hound be brought out and given 
 to them. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" Bradford asked 
 sharply. 
 
 The leader advanced and answered shortly : 
 
 "The big dog." 
 
 " Who sent you? " 
 
 " Lone Jack, the Delaware chief." 
 
 ' ' Well, go back to Lone Jack and tell him I said 
 to come himself that I will give him a taste 
 of powder-and-ball instead of dog-meat. Be off ! " 
 
 Grumbling and snarling, the braves disappeared 
 in the darkness ; and Scar Face re-entered the 
 cabin.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 169 
 
 At that moment Douglas stirred uneasily and 
 murmured : 
 
 1 ' Joe and Bright Wing come rescue " 
 
 Bradford raised his head and listened attentively. 
 Ross's lips were moving, but the words were so 
 softly spoken that the listener could not catch 
 them. 
 
 "Poor fellow!" the older man whispered pity- 
 ingly. " He's dreaming of rescue. How sweet is 
 freedom. Well well, the whole of life is but a 
 dream a miserable nightmare ' ' 
 
 ' ' At the ravine to-morrow evening, ' ' Ross 
 mumbled. 
 
 Then he sighed deeply, changed his position 
 breathing heavily and again slept soundly. 
 
 Bradford started and sat erect. 
 
 " Ah ! " he muttered, shaking his head. "There 
 may be something in that dream more than I 
 thought. At the ravine to-morrow evening. 
 What can that mean? I must investigate. Per- 
 haps his friends are near and he has met them at 
 the ravine above here. What more likely ? Fore- 
 warned is forearmed." 
 
 And, smiling grimly, he replenished the fire, 
 rolled himself in his blanket and was soon sound 
 asleep.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 STEADILY, monotonously, the rain poured down 
 all night long. The morning dawned cheer- 
 less and murky. The earth was sodden ; every 
 rivulet was swollen ; and the creek was bank full. 
 A dense fog rose from the water-courses and spread 
 itself over the land. The feeble rays of the winter 
 sun could not penetrate it ; and at midday the 
 depths of the forest were gloomy and oppressive. 
 
 The savages huddled together in their mean 
 hovels and silently watched the dreary downpour. 
 Nothing broke the stillness, save the steady drip of 
 the rain and the rumbling roar of the fast hurrying 
 streams. All the fuel was wet, and the fires burned 
 dismally. It was a wearying, soul-trying day. 
 
 Douglas and Bradford sat by the fire that smold- 
 ered in the middle of the floor of the miserable hut 
 they occupied. Occasionally, one or the other arose 
 and peeped out at the pouring rain. But the scene 
 was too depressing ; and, shivering, he returned to 
 the fire. The pungent smoke refused to find its 
 way out at the hole in the bark roof, but swirled 
 and eddied about the interior and added to the gen- 
 eral discomfort. 
 
 Neither man was in a talkative mood. Hour 
 after hour, they sat staring into the ash-masked 
 embers, each busy with his own thoughts. 
 (170)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 171 
 
 As the day advanced, Ross's apathy left him. 
 He grew strangely restless, and like a caged animal 
 paced from one end of the cabin to the other. 
 Bradford noted his companion's changed mood, but 
 said nothing. By four o'clock it was growing 
 dusk. Douglas suddenly picked up his hat and 
 started for the door. 
 
 ' ' Where are you going ? ' ' Bradford inquired. 
 
 " For a walk," was the non-committal reply. 
 
 Duke arose, stretched himself, yawned, and 
 rubbed against his master's legs. 
 
 "Surely you're not going out in such a rain," 
 Bradford remarked. "You'll get wet to the 
 skin." 
 
 " What's a little rain to a man who has spent 
 his days in the open air," Douglas returned 
 quickly, still moving toward the doorway. 
 
 "Wait!" 
 
 And Bradford sprang to his feet and placed him- 
 self in front of the other, his broad back against 
 the closed door. 
 
 "What do you mean?" Ross cried, drawing 
 himself up stiffly. 
 
 It was a strange scene. The flickering firelight 
 alone lighted the black interior and outlined the 
 forms and faces of the two men. The bloodhound 
 stood looking from one to the other. Outside, the 
 rain fell and the wind soughed fitfully. 
 
 "I mean that you're not going out to-night," 
 Bradford answered firmly. 
 
 Douglas's temper was rising.
 
 172 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "You dare to say that I shan't go out to- 
 night, if I choose? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes ; that's what I mean." 
 
 " And you think I'll submit?" 
 
 " You must you can't help yourself." 
 
 " That remains to be seen." 
 
 "Oh I" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 They stood glaring at each other, like brutes at 
 bay. The older man was cool and collected ; the 
 younger, angry and excited. Each was striving to 
 stare the other out of countenance ; but neither 
 shrank from the ordeal. 
 
 ' ' Stand aside ! ' ' Ross cried chokingly. 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 ' ' The consequences be upon your own head, 
 then!" 
 
 Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, ere 
 Douglas leaped forward and grappled with his 
 antagonist. Around and around the small, dark 
 room they whirled, each striving to trip and throw 
 the other. Douglas was the stronger, the more 
 active; Scar Face, the cooler, the more skillful. 
 They were evenly matched. 
 
 Duke snarled viciously, and ran around the 
 two combatants, seeking an opportunity to leap 
 at Bradford's throat. Both men were breathing 
 heavily. The terrific exercise and excessive strain 
 were telling upon them. But the younger man's 
 wind was the better was in his favor. Besides, 
 each moment he was growing cooler, more deter-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 173 
 
 mined, while his antagonist, seeing defeat star- 
 ing him in the face, was losing his presence of 
 mind. 
 
 Of a sudden, Douglas swung Bradford clear of 
 the ground, and with stunning force dashed him 
 against the log wall. Scar Face's hold relaxed, 
 and he dropped to the floor, senseless. In a moment 
 the dog was upon the helpless man, and would 
 have buried his fangs in the throbbing throat, had 
 not Ross panted : 
 
 " Down, Duke ; out of the way ! " 
 
 The hound sullenly obeyed, growling fiercely. 
 Douglas leaned against the wall and breathed hard 
 for some seconds. Then he stooped and carefully 
 examined his fallen foe. 
 
 "He's only stunned; thank God I didn't have 
 to kill him ! " he ejaculated. 
 
 Then, taking a bundle of thongs from a peg upon 
 the wall, he proceeded to bind the prostrate man, 
 hand and foot. When he had finished, he secured 
 the other's gun, ammunition, and knife, and calling 
 to the dog left the hut, noiselessly closing the door 
 behind him. 
 
 By this time it was quite dark. Along the creek 
 bank, the camp-fires twinkled like watchful eyes. 
 With long, sturdy strides, Douglas set off toward 
 the ravine up the stream. The smell of the heavy 
 fog was in his nostrils ; the booming roar of the 
 turbulent creek in his ears. He met or saw no 
 one. He left the camp behind, and neared the spot 
 where he expected to meet his friends.
 
 174 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Suddenly he stopped and whistled softly. No 
 reply. He drew nearer to the ravine, and again he 
 whistled. Still no reply. The bloodhound whined 
 and impatiently scratched the soft, wet earth. 
 
 "Find them, Duke," Ross commanded. 
 
 The dog ran forward and disappeared in the 
 bushes. 
 
 Douglas awaited the outcome of his experiment. 
 Presently he heard an eerie-like whisper : 
 
 ' ' Come right straight ahead, Ross Douglas. 
 Crawl into the bushes, an' be mighty still while 
 you're doin' it." 
 
 It was Farley's voice. Douglas obeyed the 
 words. Dropping upon hands and knees, he 
 wormed his way through the thick copse of wet 
 bushes, for some yards. Suddenly a hand was 
 clapped upon his shoulder, and these whispered 
 words fell upon his ear : 
 
 "Drop down an' keep still. The Injins is all 
 'round us. They've got onto our game, some way, 
 an' have been huntin' fer our hidin' -place ever 
 sence the middle o' the afternoon. Me an' Bright 
 Wing's laid here fer twelve mortal hours, without a 
 bite to eat. How the redskins got onto our scheme 
 is more 'n I can tell; but they've done it. Have you 
 got a gun with you, Ross? " 
 
 ' ' Yes, ' ' was the cautious reply. 
 
 "All right. We didn't dare to answer y'r 
 whistle, fer fear the Injins might hear us. They 
 was mighty close right then. That dog o' yours' s 
 got a heap o' sense he has, by ginger ! 'He jest
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 175 
 
 nosed 'round us an' never barked n'r nothin'. 
 Wher' are you, Bright Wing?" 
 
 "Me here," came from the depths of the Wyan- 
 dot's chest. 
 
 "Well, lead off, an' we'll foller you. This is a 
 ticklish business, 'r my name ain't Joe Farley ! 
 Ross, y'r dog was goin' back to you, but I c'ncluded 
 I'd best risk callin' you. Go ahead, Injin, we're 
 right at y'r heels." 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' was the guttural response from the 
 blackness. 
 
 To the bottom of the ravine they stealthily de- 
 scended ; crept through the water and mud of its 
 bed ; and ascended the opposite bank. Bright 
 Wing led the way ; Duke brought up the rear. 
 Reaching the open wood, they arose to their feet 
 and silently threaded their way through the intri- 
 cate mazes of the black forest. 
 
 They had proceeded but a short distance, how- 
 ever, when Bright Wing dropped to the ground 
 and lay motionless. The others followed his ex- 
 ample. Duke growled menacingly, and ere his 
 master could lay a restraining hand upon him, 
 darted into the wall of blackness ahead. To the 
 ears of the three comrades came a sharp exclama- 
 tion, followed by the sounds of a tussle. Then all 
 was silent. 
 
 "What's the meaning of those sounds?" Ross 
 inquired softly of Farley. 
 
 "Don't know," was the reply in the same cau- 
 tious undertone.
 
 176 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "S'pect thepurp got hold of a redskin's guzzle, 
 an' shut his wind off so quick he couldn't " 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! Duke him bite bad Shawnee much hard, n 
 the Wyandot volunteered. ' ' Here Duke him is 
 now. Come." 
 
 The dog trotted back to his place and, panting, 
 threw himself upon the ground. Again they moved 
 onward, creeping along inch by inch and pausing 
 frequently to listen. In this manner they covered 
 quite a distance. They had arisen to their feet, 
 and were congratulating themselves that they had 
 eluded the vigilance of their watchful foes, when 
 the patter of moccasined feet sounded on all sides of 
 them. They were surrounded. 
 
 A short and sharp conflict in the intense dark- 
 ness ensued. Rifles were discharged and blows 
 were struck at random. Then the three comrades 
 found themselves beyond the line of their enemies, 
 and blindly dashed away in the impenetrable black- 
 ness. 
 
 For some time they continued their mad flight, 
 through thickets and over fallen logs, stumbling, 
 falling, scrambling to their feet and running on. 
 At last they paused momentarily to listen. All 
 sounds of pursuit had died out. Naught was to 
 be heard but the patter of the raindrops upon the 
 dead leaves and the boom of the creek near at 
 hand. 
 
 "We have distanced them," Douglas panted. 
 
 "Yes," Farley gasped in reply. " But it was a 
 mighty close shave. Is either o' you fellers hurt ? "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 177 
 
 "I'm not," Ross replied. 
 
 " Me no hurt," Bright Wing grunted. "Where 
 dog Duke?" 
 
 " Here at my side," Douglas answered. 
 
 " I guess I'm the only critter that got a scratch," 
 Joe grumbled. "I alluz was an unlucky mortal. 
 One o' them red devils has raised a strawberry on 
 my cheek, as big's a walnut. He must 'ave 
 struck me with the butt of his hatchet. I'm much 
 obleeged to him that he didn't use the blade. I'd 
 'ave needed a surgeon, I would, by Polly Ann ! 
 Seemin'ly the cusses didn't want to kill us ; they 
 didn't fire a gun. Wanted to take us alive, I 
 reckon. But our charge was too much fer 'em. 
 But we want to reload our rifles, an' git out o' here. 
 They'll git torches an' be hot on our trail 'fore a 
 half hour, 'r I miss my guess. Gol-fer-socks ! 
 But I'm hungry. I could eat hoss-meat now an' 
 relish it. Say, fellers, which way do we want to 
 steer?" 
 
 "It makes little difference," Ross answered im- 
 patiently. ' ' Any direction that will carry us from 
 this vicinity is good enough for me." 
 
 "That won't do," Joe said firmly. "We've got 
 to do one o' two 'r three things : steer fer Fort Har- 
 rison on the Wabash, Fort Defiance on the Maumee, 
 'r make a break 'cross the country fer Franklinton 
 on the Scioto. The question is which way '11 we 
 go. What do you say, Injin?" 
 
 " Me say go toward rising sun ; go toward home," 
 Bright Wing answered promptly. 
 
 12
 
 178 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 1 ' What do you say, Ross ? ' ' 
 
 "I'm willing to abide by Bright Wing's deci- 
 sion. But let's be off." 
 
 " All right," returned Joe. "We've got to ford 
 the creek then, an' keep bearin' east. We want to 
 strike through by Greenville an' Fort Recovery. 
 Come on. I^e's git out o' here, an' find a place 
 where we can cook some meat. The Injin's got 
 some in his pouch. I'm jest 'bout starved, I am, 
 by cracky ! In j in, take the lead." 
 
 All night they pressed forward, bearing toward 
 the northeast. At daylight they went into camp 
 upon a rocky elevation, and, after kindling a fire 
 and cooking and eating a quantity of venison, 
 stretched themselves upon the damp ground and 
 fell asleep. 
 
 While they are snatching a few hours of repose, 
 let us go back to the Indian camp upon Wildcat 
 Creek. 
 
 Fifteen minutes after Douglas's departure, Brad- 
 ford regained consciousness. At first he lay and 
 stared vacantly around him. Then a keen remem- 
 brance of all that had occurred came to him, and 
 he attempted to arise. He tugged at his bonds ; 
 half arose to a sitting posture ; and fell back helpless. 
 
 ' ' Overpowered, but not outwitted ! " he muttered, 
 rolling his aching head. " The Indians are on the 
 qui vive, and will recapture him. Also, they will 
 take his venturesome comrades prisoners. I hope 
 they'll not hurt either of the three.
 
 THE 'SIGN OF THE PROPHET 179 
 
 " How long have I lain here? I must have re- 
 ceived a severe blow ; I'm dizzy, and my head 
 aches. It's a wonder he didn't kill me while he 
 had the chance. Perhaps he doesn't hate me as 
 he did. God grant that it may be so ! Of course 
 he has taken my arms with him. Well, I can't 
 blame him ; I robbed him of his own. I was a fool 
 to send away the two guards. I should have kept 
 them at hand day and night. Why don't the 
 redskins come ; what can be the cause of their 
 delay ? " 
 
 Again he essayed to arise, and again fell back 
 with a groan. The fire had burned down ; the room 
 was in darkness. No sound came to his ears, but 
 the patter of the rain upon the bark roof, the fitful 
 sough of the wind, and the sullen boom of the rush- 
 ing stream. A half hour passed. He strained at 
 the thongs that bound his limbs, but accomplished 
 nothing. 
 
 ' ' Curse the luck ! " he cried angrily. ' ' Why 
 don't the red hounds put in an appearance ? Can it 
 be possible he has escaped them ? How strong and 
 active he is. He was too much for me, with all my 
 skill as a wrestler. Mercy, how my head aches ! 
 And how manly and brave he is ; a young man of 
 whom any father might be proud ! But he hates 
 me hates me ! In the name of all the fiends, 
 must I lie here helpless while he makes his escape ? 
 I shall go mad. Hark! Footsteps and voices." 
 
 A moment later the door flew open, and a number 
 of braves strode into the room.
 
 180 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " Is that you, Long Gun? " Bradford asked ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' grunted the leader of the party. 
 
 " And the palefaces where are they ? " 
 
 "Gone." 
 
 "Gone!" shouted the prostrate man, writhing 
 like one undergoing torture. " Gone ! You shall 
 pay dearly for allowing him to escape ! ' ' 
 
 Long Gun kicked the half-burned faggots into a 
 blazing pile. Then folding his arms upon his 
 brawny chest, he answered composedly : 
 
 " Scar Face should not talk big and loud. See! 
 He lies helpless, like a tethered dog. He can bark, 
 but he cannot bite. He snaps and snarls, and 
 finds fault with Long Gun and his warriors, because 
 they did not capture the armed palefaces, in the 
 black forest. But Scar Face could not overpower 
 one unarmed paleface, in his own cabin. The young 
 man joined his friends. They fought in the dark- 
 ness and made their escape. My warriors bear 
 the marks of the fight." 
 
 "Fool ! " Bradford bellowed chokingly. " Don't 
 stand their gloating over my predicament ! Sever 
 my bonds at once." 
 
 The chief silently obeyed. Bradford struggled 
 to his feet, shook himself, and rubbed his stiffened 
 limbs. Then he inquired briskly : 
 
 "All three escaped?" 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 "And the dog?" 
 
 "Ugh!"
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 181 
 
 " Which way did they go? " 
 
 ' ' 1/ong Gun and his warriors tried to follow 
 them, but could not. The black night swallowed 
 them." 
 
 " Bah ! " sneered the white man. "And you call 
 yourself a Shawnee warrior ! Do not palefaces 
 leave tracks in the dark, as well as in the light ? 
 You must find their trail ; you must follow and 
 overtake them. Do you hear me? Rouse your- 
 selves ! Get torches ! I will accompany you. 
 Five pounds to the brave who first strikes their 
 trail ; ten pounds to him who first gains sight of 
 them ! Let's be off ! Hurry ! Hurry ! " 
 
 Stimulated by the prospect of reward, the braves 
 hurriedly prepared for the pursuit. Out of the 
 cabin they trooped, Long Gun in the lead. Brad- 
 ford accompanied them. The camp was enveloped 
 in darkness ; the rain still fell steadily persist- 
 ently. Up the creek they proceeded, their naming 
 torches lighting the surface of the muddy stream. 
 They reached the ravine, crossed it, and disappeared 
 in the thick woods. And still the rain fell, and 
 still the camp was wrapped in darkness and slumber. 
 
 The next day, the allied tribes at Wildcat Creek 
 packed their scanty effects and set out for the vil- 
 lage of the Miamis, upon the Mississinewa. 
 
 Now let us return to the escaped captive and his 
 friends. 
 
 The sun was several hours high when Ross 
 awoke. The sky was clear ; the morning air crisp
 
 1 82 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 and biting. The young man stretched his limbs 
 and drank deeply of the sweet, invigorating atmos- 
 phere. The grateful odor of cooking meat greeted 
 him. A brisk camp-fire blazed at his feet; and 
 suspended over it, by means of a tripod of green 
 sticks, was a hunk of venison, roasting. Douglas 
 took in all this at a glance. Then he looked 
 around for his companions. They were nowhere 
 in sight. 
 
 "Strange, "he muttered, picking up Bradford's 
 rifle and carefully examining it. " Are mysteries 
 never to end ? Where can Farley and Bright Wing 
 be? Of course they have not deserted me. But 
 where are they? Why didn't they wake me? 
 They have gone to investigate something, probably, 
 for they have left the meat cooking. How soundly 
 I must have slept ! Their absence makes me un- 
 easy." 
 
 Dropping upon the ground, he continued his crit- 
 ical examination of the gun he held in his hands, 
 all the while communing with himself : 
 
 ' ' An excellent piece of English manufacture, and 
 richly carved and ornamented. It must have cost a 
 pretty sum of money. Bradford will hardly thank 
 me for relieving him of it. He must have set great 
 store by it." And the speaker smiled. " I won- 
 der what he thought and did when he regained 
 consciousness and found me gone, and himself un- 
 armed and tied. A mysterious personage ! He kept 
 me a prisoner; yet he was kind to me and protected 
 me. And L,a Violette, how beautiful ! A form and
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 183 
 
 face to drive a man mad with love. But all her 
 witcheries could not efface from my heart the image 
 of little Amy L,arkin. Pshaw ! what nonsense I'm 
 talking. Am I a love-sick schoolboy, doomed 
 to fall in love with every pretty face I see? 
 Divorce L,aViolette from her romantic environment, 
 and she would be commonplace, perhaps. At any 
 rate, she is naught to me ; nor I to her. Why 
 should I bestow a thought upon her? She forgot 
 her promise to me, as soon as she had made it. I'll 
 think of Amy gentle, loving, faithful little girl ! " 
 
 A moment he hung his head and was silent. 
 The blazing camp-fire crackled ; the roasting meat 
 steamed and sputtered. Presently Ross shook him- 
 self, and again looking about him, murmured im- 
 patiertly : 
 
 ' ' Confound the luck ! Where can those two 
 runaways be? We should be upon our journey. 
 We are still within reach of the Indians and Brad- 
 ford. At this moment a party may be hot upon 
 our trail. We're wasting precious time. The 
 campaign is over; and I'm anxious to return 
 to Amy, to fulfill my promise. But Bradford 1 
 How my mind reverts to that man. The threads of 
 our lives have crossed. Will they remain en- 
 tangled ? Ah ! What are these letters engraved 
 upon the stock of his gun? J. D. eh? Those 
 are not his initials. Evidently he stole the piece 
 as /did. Bradford ! I hate the treacherous villain 
 but I could not kill him. Duke hated him, 
 too. Ah ! "
 
 1 84 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Hastily he scrambled to his feet and once more 
 swept his eyes around the place, grumbling in an 
 irritable undertone: 
 
 "Where is the hound? I hadn't thought of 
 him. He wouldn't go far from my side, unless 
 he were forced to do so. I'll call him." 
 
 As has been stated, the site of the three friends' 
 bivouac was the summit of a small, rock-strewn 
 elevation. It was bare at the top, but surrounded 
 at its base by a fringe of stunted bushes. On all 
 sides of it stretched the forest. 
 
 Douglas threw his rifle upon his shoulder and 
 swiftly descended the slope, softly calling the dog's 
 name as he went. Just as he reached the bottom 
 of the gentle declivity, there was a stir in the un- 
 derbrush, and Duke bounded forth to meet his 
 master. A moment later, the limbs parted and the 
 smiling face of Joe Farley peeped out. The hound 
 fawned at Ross's feet and whined gleefully. 
 
 "He seems mighty glad to see you," Joe re- 
 marked as he stepped into the open. 
 
 "Yes," Douglas answered dryly, keenly eyeing 
 his friend. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" Farley laughed. "Did 
 you sleep so long you let the meat burn up? A 
 purty cook you'd make." 
 
 "The meat's cooking nicely," Ross interrupted. 
 ' ' But why did you leave it ? What are you doing 
 down here ? " 
 
 "Jest stepped down here to take a squint 'round 
 an' see if I could find anything o' the Injin."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 185 
 
 "Bright Wing?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 ' ' I don't know no more'n the man in the moon. 
 When I woke up an hour ago he was gone. You 
 was sleepin' so good I didn't want to wake you. 
 So I hung up the chunk o' venison, started a fire 
 under it, an' come down here to see what I could 
 see. After a little while the dog follered me. " 
 
 "And what discovery have you made? " 
 
 " None. I hain't seen hide n'r hair o' the Injin, 
 n'r nobody else. I don't see what's become o' him. 
 I can't make it out." 
 
 Douglas was silent ; and Joe asked : 
 
 "What do you make of it? " 
 
 "I don't know what to think," Ross replied 
 meditatively. "One thing is certain, however. 
 We're tarrying too long." 
 
 " Of course," assented Joe. 
 
 "But we can't proceed until Bright Wing re- 
 turns. ' ' 
 
 "No, of course not. " 
 
 " What do you suggest?" 
 
 "That we go an' have somethin' to eat while 
 we're waitin'. I'm as holler as a gun bar'l. I've 
 fasted fer three 'r four days, an' it seems I can't 
 git filled up, somehow. I'm jest like a feller in 
 love I am, by Caroline ! Can't git enough of it. 
 I remember one time when a score o' purty women 
 was hankerin' after me. They was perfectly dis- 
 tracted over my good looks. But I wasn't in love
 
 1 86 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 with one of 'em ; an' it didn't take me long to git 
 enough o' their billin' an' cooin'. Then I remem- 
 ber another time w'en a small piece o' linsey-wool- 
 sey got in my mind, an' I couldn't git 'er out. She 
 was purty as a picttir' , an' sharper eyed 'n a black- 
 bird. But she didn't keer a continental fer me ; an' 
 I nearly starved to death fer the want o' her love. 
 I pined away to skin an' bone, an' become a reg'lar 
 shadder. Served me right, fer the way I'd used 
 them other women, I reckon. I ain't much on re- 
 ligion, but I b'lieve a man gits his punishment fer 
 his evil deeds right here on earth I do, by Sa- 
 manthy ! But what 're you thinkin' 'bout, Ross 
 Douglas?" 
 
 Ross stood absent-mindedly gazing into the som- 
 ber depths of the surrounding forest. Evidently 
 he had heard little that his loquacious friend had 
 been saying. But at the question he started, and 
 replied serio-comically : 
 
 ' ' I was thinking I had heard you speak of your 
 numerous conquests before, Joe." 
 
 "So you have." And the other nodded sol- 
 emnly and vigorously. "The Good Book says 
 that from the fullness o' the gizzard the tongue 
 wags 'r words to that effect. I never was good 
 at quotin' Scriptur'. Anyhow, a man's liable to 
 talk 'bout what's on his conscience. It's a con- 
 sumin' fire that won't let him rest. As fer me, 
 toyin' with women f oiks' s affections has been my 
 besettin' sin. Now I'm gittin' up in years, I'd 
 like to find a purty woman, an' marry an' settle
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 187 
 
 down. But I've burned out the candle o' the 
 I^ord's mercy an' blowed the ashes in his'face, an' 
 he won't hear my prayers." Here Joe sighed 
 deeply, lugubriously. "Be keerful you don't do 
 the same thing, Ross Douglas. Let my horrible 
 example be a warnin' to you. Don't toy with 
 women's hearts. As I was goin' to say " 
 
 "Did I understand you to say you're hungry, 
 Joe?" Douglas interrupted. 
 
 "Of course, I'm hungry," Farley answered in an 
 injured tone. "I'm alluz hungry. When I was a 
 boy I foolishly took a drink o' water out of a frog 
 pond, an' swallered 'bout a dozen tadpoles. Well, 
 sir, them tadpoles growed to frogs; an' they're in 
 my stomach yit. They take all the victuals I put 
 into my mouth ; an' w'en they git re 1 1 hungry, they 
 set up such a croakin' I can't sleep fer the noise 
 they make. Once I got to foolin' 'round a log 
 bear-trap in the woods, an' the door fell down an' 
 shut me in. I was a pris'ner fer 'bout a week ; an' 
 was nearly starved to death an" crazier 'n a loon, 
 w'en some fellers found me an' let me out. Well, 
 sir, first them frogs went to croakin' fer somethin' 
 to eat, an' they kep' it up fer four days, never 
 lettin' up a minute. Then they got dry fer 
 water, an' they commenced hoppin' 'round in my 
 inside an' tryin' to git out. Talk 'bout sufferin'! 
 The oP martyrs never had to stand what I stood 
 out there in that bear- trap. The 'xperience left 
 lines o' sufferin' on my comely visage, that I hain't 
 never got red of. It come purty near spilin' my
 
 1 88 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 beauty ferever it did, by Melindy Jane! W'y, 
 dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! I tell you ' ' 
 
 "Joe." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " If you don't mean to feed your colony of frogs 
 on charred meat, you'd better look after that roast- 
 ing venison. It's scorching ; I smell it." 
 
 " By my great uncle's snuffbox, but that's a fact! 
 An' me a-standin' here, a-blowin' my bugle, like a 
 shaller-pated fool ! " 
 
 Farley loped up the slope, to the camp-fire, and 
 rescued the hunk of venison from the coals where 
 it had fallen. Douglas followed leisurely, a preoc- 
 cupied look upon his dark, handsome face. Duke 
 trotted at his heels. 
 
 "It's done now an' good art done! " Joe grum- 
 bled. " But it's all we've got, an' we'll make the 
 best of it. Dang a long an' limber tongue, any- 
 how ! Mine's alluz gittin' me into some dangna- 
 tion trouble. Well, we can cut off the burnt parts 
 an' feed 'em to the dog. Jest see the hungry purp ! 
 L,ooks like he'd like to take a slice out o' me, this 
 very minute. Ther', Duke, clap y'r jaws on that. 
 Gone a' ready, an' wantin' more? Ross Douglas, I 
 may have a colony o' frogs in me, but this houn' o' 
 yours is infested with a tapeworm bigger 'n a black- 
 snake he is, by King Solermen's harem ! Git 
 y'r knife out, an' le's fall to an' eat ; no use to wait 
 on the Injin no tellin' where he is." 
 
 Ross's preoccupied air had not deserted him ; and 
 he ate sparingly of the tempting food. The eccen-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 189 
 
 trie woodman ravenously devoured great slices of 
 the meat, grudgingly tossing the dog the burnt 
 portions. At last he paused in his masticatory pro- 
 cess and exclaimed : 
 
 " Ross, somethin's botherin' you the worst kind; 
 an' whatever it is, it's takin' y'r appetite." 
 
 " I'm thinking," Douglas replied. 
 
 " Well, what 're you thinkin' of ? " 
 
 " Of what has become of Bright Wing." 
 
 "An' what's yer c'nclusion? " 
 
 ' ' That he has gone back over our trail, to dis- 
 cover if we are followed." 
 
 "It's more'n likely," Joe assented. "But we 
 can't do nothin' but wait fer him, can we?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 ' ' Well, that's settled then. Say ! ' ' 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Why didn't you kill that Bradford the low- 
 lived skunk when you had a chance? 'Twould 
 'ave saved us no end o' trouble, p'r'aps. Maybe 
 he's on our trail this minute, with a band o' mur- 
 derin' red devils at his back." 
 
 "It's probable." 
 
 " Well, why didn't you kill him ? " 
 
 " I had reasons for not doing so." 
 
 " What was they ?" 
 
 " I don't care to say." 
 
 " Huh! You're gittin' closer 'n a clam," Joe mut- 
 tered irritably. 
 
 Then he continued : 
 
 " An' you didn't kill that ol' cuss of a Prophet?"
 
 1 90 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Ross remained silent. 
 
 " N'r Tecumseh, n'r none of 'em ? " 
 
 " I was hardly in a position to make a wholesale 
 slaughter of my enemies," Ross replied laughingly. 
 " I was a captive, and surrounded by hundreds of 
 bloodthirsty savages. I consider myself fortu- 
 nate to have escaped with my life." 
 
 " Yes, that's so," Farley assented in a dissatisfied 
 tone. " But it seems to me this campaign hain't 
 amounted to much. Tecumseh's back among his 
 warriors ; an' Bradford an' the Prophet's still alive. 
 They'll be hatchin' more devilment, 'fore the next 
 new moon. Howsoever, I've done my part an' hain't 
 got nothin' to regret. But I don't want to be a 
 soldier no more ; I'd ruther fight on my own hook. 
 This thing o' drivin' oxen from one end o' the In- 
 diany Territory to the other ain't what it's cracked up 
 to be." And he sighed feelingly. " All I want's 
 to git back to my cabin on the ol' Scioto W'y, 
 ding-it-all-to-dangnation! There's the Injin this 
 blessed minute ! " 
 
 Both white men hastily arose and ran to meet 
 their red comrade, who came bounding up the 
 slope, with the speed and grace of an antelope. Ere 
 they reached his side, they saw him place his finger 
 upon his lips, in token of silence. 
 
 "What is it?" Douglas asked in an anxious 
 whisper. 
 
 Bright Wing drew a full breath and replied: 
 
 " Scar Face and many braves." 
 
 ' ' Where ? How far away ? "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 191 
 
 ' ' Three four gunshots. " 
 
 " And upon our trail ? " 
 
 "Ugh !" 
 
 " Are they moving rapidly ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! Soon be here. Scar Face, bad Shawnees 
 and Pottawatomies. Come fast ; soon be here." 
 
 "Let's be off, then," Ross said calmly. "We 
 have no time to lose." 
 
 " Grab up that piece o' meat, Injin, an' put it in 
 y'r pouch," Joe cried, excitedly. " You can eat it 
 on the run. We've had our sheer. Dang the var- 
 mints, anyhow! They mean to give us a long an' 
 hot chase." 
 
 Quickly they descended the eastern slope, worked 
 their way through the fringe of bushes surrounding 
 its base, and set off at a rapid pace through the 
 forest. Bright Wing led the way. They bore 
 toward the southeast. With the foresight and cun- 
 ning of trained woodmen, they exercised all the arts 
 of their craft to throw their pursuers off their trail. 
 Here they followed the bed of a stream, soaking 
 their moccasins in the icy water to hide their faint 
 footprints ; there they doubled on their track and 
 took a new direction. At intervals, they separated 
 and made wide detours from the main course, only 
 to meet again further on. Occasionally they paused 
 momentarily, to drink from some running stream or 
 to strain their senses for sight or sound of their 
 enemies. Then on again swiftly, tirelessly. 
 
 The noon hour came and went. The sun now 
 veiled by scudding clouds, now shining brightly
 
 192 
 
 begau a descent of the western arc of the heavens. 
 The wind rose raw and disagreeable. Black cloud 
 banks began to pile up on the horizon, indicating 
 an approaching snowstorm. The short winter day 
 advanced jrapidly. 
 
 The topography of the country again changed. 
 The surface of the land grew flatter ; open glades 
 appeared here and there in the thick woods. At 
 last Joe stopped and remarked complainingly : 
 
 " I've gone 'bout as far's I'm goin' in one day 
 I have, by Molly ! My feet's wet an' cold, an" I've 
 got a crick o' the rheumatiz in my back, that's pes- 
 terin' me like the nation. Feels like a swarm o' 
 hornets had took a roost there. We hain't got 
 nothin' to eat, which is purty sad ; but we can build 
 a fire an' rest an' roast our shins, which '11 be some 
 sort o' comfort, anyhow. I'm o' the 'pinion we've 
 throwed the redskins off our track ; we hain't heerd 
 n'r seen nothin' of 'em sence we broke camp. I've 
 purty nigh come to the c'nclusion that you was mis- 
 taken, Injin that you didn't see no one follerin' us." 
 
 Bright Wing's beady eyes flashed. 
 
 ' ' Joe heap big fool some more ! " he grunted con- 
 temptuously. ' ' Bright Wing see Scar Face and 
 many braves. Bad Shawnees and Pottawatomies 
 still on trail. Like hound ; no give up and go back. 
 Want scalps bad. Bright Wing go on. Joe stay ; 
 build fire ; loose scalp. Ugh ! " 
 
 " An' a heap you'll keer, if I^z'/my hair raised," 
 Farley retorted crossly. " You're jest like the rest 
 o' y'r people."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 193 
 
 ' ' Joe ! ' ' Douglas interrupted sternly. 
 
 " Well, what is it? " was the surly response. 
 
 ' ' Once more you are talking idle nonsense. Your 
 tongue will again get you into trouble. You know, 
 as well as I, that Bright Wing has told us the truth. 
 We can't stop here; we musn't. Such an act 
 would be the sheerest folly." 
 
 "Yes, I s'pose you're right," Joe admitted in a 
 mollified tone. " We've got to keep on. Dang the 
 redskins, anyway ! The doctors says exercise is a 
 good thing ; but I ain't hankerin' fer any more of it, 
 jest now. They say it's a mighty powerful thing 
 to give a feller an appetite ; an' I can believe that 
 statement without half tryin', fer them frogs in me 
 has gone to croakin' like sixty. That's what made 
 me so flustered an' cantankerous. Well, Injin, lead 
 on. I'll roller you, if I wear my legs off up to my 
 shoulders I will, 'r my name ain' t Joseph Peregoy 
 Farley!" 
 
 Once more they set forward. But they had gone 
 only a hundred yards, when the Wyandot, with a 
 startled grunt, came to an abrupt stop. 
 
 ' ' What 'ave you diskivered now ? ' ' Farley in- 
 quired, stepping forward. 
 
 "Afresh trail!" Ross exclaimed, stooping and 
 examining the moist earth and damp leaves. 
 
 The three comrades bent down and closely scru- 
 tinized the numerous tracks. The light in the for- 
 est was dim ; and they painfully strained their eyes 
 over the alarming discovery, as they attempted to 
 read its meaning aright. After a minute's exatni- 
 13
 
 194 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 nation, they arose and silently looked at one another. 
 Presently Douglas said in an undertone : 
 
 "What do you make of it, Bright Wing? " 
 
 " Redmen," was the emphatic reply. 
 
 " And quite a number of them." 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " Of course that trail was made by redskins," 
 Joe volunteered in a stage whisper. " 'Cause ther's 
 nobody else in these parts to make it. An' more 'n 
 that, there's a score 'r more of 'em, an' they're mov- 
 in' in the direction we're goin'. That trail ain't 
 more 'n a few hours old, at most. I'll tell you my 
 explanation o' the affair." 
 
 " What is it? " Ross asked. 
 
 " Wy, dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! that Scar Face 
 an' his murderin', scalpin' gang o' red devils has 
 sarcumvented us an' got ahead of us, that's what. 
 Though how in the name o' Dan'l Boone they ever 
 done it, I can't imagine ! They must 'ave found 
 some short cut." 
 
 Bright Wing decidedly shook his head and grunted: 
 
 "No believe." 
 
 ' ' You don't believe Joe's theory that the trail was 
 made by Scar Face and his band ? " Douglas said 
 quickly. 
 
 " No believe." 
 
 " By whom, then?" 
 
 " Winnebagoes. " 
 
 " But," Ross objected, " the Winnebagoes have 
 returned to their northern village." 
 
 " Not all go," the Wyandot asserted positively.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 195 
 
 " Why do you say that ? " 
 
 " Winnebagoes make tracks." 
 
 And the Indian pointed to the fresh trail. 
 
 Stooping and passing his finger over a moist spot 
 of bare earth, Bright Wing replied triumphantly : 
 
 "See, moccasin track. No Shawnee moccasin, 
 no Pottawatomie moccasin ; Winnebago moccasin." 
 
 In silent wonder the two white men stood staring 
 at their red friend. At last Farley burst forth : 
 
 "Well, if that don't beat me ! The idee o' tellin' 
 one moccasin track from another ! I'd as soon 
 think o' tellin' one bear's track from another I 
 would, by Hanner Ann ! It's easy to tell a wolf's 
 track from a fox's, but to tell one redskin's track 
 from another's is a thing I never learnt ; an' I never 
 could, if I lived a thousan' years. But no doubt 
 the Injin's right, Ross Douglas. It's prob'ly a 
 huntin' band o' the Wirmebagoes that's loiterin' 
 'round in this neck o' woods. An' we've got red- 
 skins behind us, an' redskins before us. Now what 
 're we goin' to do? That's what I'd like to know." 
 
 " It will soon be dark ; we must push forward," 
 Ross replied. 
 
 "An' tumble plump into the clutches o' the Win- 
 nebagoes," Joe answered. ' ' They're devils to fight; 
 an' as cruel an' bloodthirsty as the Shawnees." 
 
 ' ' To remain here means to fall into the hands of 
 the band upon our trail," Douglas returned hastily. 
 ' ' The Winnebagoes know nothing of us ; perhaps 
 we can avoid them. What have you to say, Bright 
 Wing?"
 
 196 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' Scar Face and braves back there ; Winnebagoes 
 out there," the Wyandot answered, indicating each 
 direction with his finger. " Go that way." 
 
 ' ' You mean we should leave the Winnebago trail 
 to the south, until we have passed them ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " With a vigorous nod. 
 
 " Very well. Let's be moving." 
 
 " But," cried Joe, "that's goin' to take us 'way 
 out of our course." 
 
 ' ' It's better to leave our course than to lose our 
 lives," was Douglas's answer, as he shouldered his 
 rifle and followed the Indian. 
 
 Farley offered no reply, but silently brought up 
 the rear. Duke trotted softly at his master's side. 
 The shadows of night gathered noiselessly swiftly. 
 The four dusky figures moved forward. The sky 
 was thickly obscured by clouds ; the darkness was 
 intense. Snow began to fall in fine, downy flakes. 
 Still the four black forms now a part of the gen- 
 eral blackness glided onward, slowly and cau- 
 tiously. 
 
 " I say we've got far enough," Farley ventured at 
 last, in a soft whisper. 
 
 Douglas was about to turn and make reply, when 
 Bright Wing suddenly gave a grunt of warning and 
 dropped to the ground. His companions followed 
 his example. A hoarse growl rumbled up from 
 Duke's deep chest, as he crouched like a tiger pre- 
 paring for a spring. The next moment the sound 
 of light footfalls came to the ears of all* 
 
 " Surrounded ! " gasped Douglas.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 197 
 
 " Fell into a trap, jest as I expected ! " muttered 
 Farley. " We're out o' the fryin'-pan into the 
 fire ! " 
 
 Duke uttered a vicious bay and sprang to his 
 feet. Then the forest rang with a chorus of fiend- 
 ish yells, as though all the imps of hell had broken 
 loose at once. 
 
 In a moment the three men were upon their feet. 
 The belching rifles of their enemies surrounded 
 them with a ring of flame. Ross Douglas felt a 
 stinging, burning sensation in his right breast. He 
 discharged his gun, and staggered against a neigh- 
 boring tree. Sparks of red and green light flashed 
 before his eyes ; a cataract roared in his ears. Dimly 
 he discerned the savage forms swarming around 
 him ; faintly he heard the whoops of the Indians 
 and the lusty cheers of his two comrades. Then he 
 grew faint and dkzy. His limbs trembled ; his 
 brain swam. He coughed ; and a stream of hot blood 
 welled up in his throat. His legs failed him, and he 
 sank upon the ground. As one in a dream, he heard 
 Farley saying: 
 
 " The poor boy's done fer, Bright Wing ! He's 
 bleedin' from the mouth, an' senseless. 'Taint no 
 use to stand by him no longer ; he's past all help. 
 L,e's try to cut our way out o' this muss. We can't 
 more 'n die ! An' maybe it '11 draw the cusses away 
 from the spot, an' save his scalp! " 
 
 The Wyandot's war-whoop and Farley's stentorian 
 bellow again sounded above the yells of their ene- 
 mies. Fainter and fainter grew the indescribable
 
 198 
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 sounds of conflict in the darkness ; and Ross was 
 alone. No, not alone ; for a dark body sprang to 
 his side and, whimpering pitifully, crouched and 
 licked his face. It was Duke. 
 
 Then the wounded man became blind, deaf, un- 
 conscious. And the soft snow fell and covered 
 him, as a winding-sheet.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHEN Ross Douglas regained consciousness, it 
 was still night ; but the heavens were clear 
 and starlit. The snow had ceased to fall ; 
 the air was still and cold. A thin mantle of spot- 
 less white covered the earth. In the uncertain 
 light, the bare tree trunks looked like files and 
 squads of ghostly soldiers. 
 
 The wounded man attempted to change his posi- 
 tion, but the pain in his right breast warned him to 
 lie still. His attempted movement attracted the 
 attention of his faithful, four-footed friend, who 
 was sitting by his side. The hound whined plain- 
 tively, and licked his master's face. Ross put out 
 his hand and patted the dog's head. This so 
 pleased Duke, that he frisked about and barked 
 joyfully, doing his best to entice his beloved master 
 from his icy bed upon the frozen ground. 
 
 Douglas instantly remembered what had oc- 
 curred, and fully realized his forlorn and helpless 
 condition. But he was not one to yield to despair. 
 Lying there desperately wounded in a wilderness 
 full of savage enemies, and far from any settlement 
 he resolved to outwit death or die gamely. He be- 
 gan an examination of himself and his surroundings. 
 He found that he still lay at the foot of the tree 
 where he had fallen. His wound had ceased to 
 
 (199)
 
 200 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 bleed, but his hunting-shirt was stiff with frozen 
 blood ; and the saline taste of the crimson life-tide 
 was yet in his throat. Every breath caused him a 
 pang ; and a deep inspiration gave him excruciating 
 torture. But he could move his arms and legs 
 without much pain or difficulty. Again he essayed 
 to arise, but fell back with a groan ; he was too 
 weak from fasting and loss of blood. 
 
 " If only I could get upon my feet ! " he mur- 
 mured. " I shall freeze here." 
 
 Seeing that his master could not arise, Duke had 
 returned to his former position. Now he tilted his 
 muzzle aloft and bayed mournfully. 
 
 " There there, old fellow!" Ross said sooth- 
 ingly. " Keep up your courage. Things are not 
 entirely hopeless so long as we two are together. 
 Ah! Perhaps you can help me to get up. Here, 
 let me get my arms around your neck. That's it. 
 Now, Duke, pull pull!" 
 
 The bloodhound was accustomed to obeying his 
 master's every command. Digging his claws into 
 the flinty earth, he stretched his lithe, muscular 
 body, in an attempt to do the bidding of the being 
 he loved. Ross clung tenaciously to the noble 
 animal's neck. The result was he was dragged to 
 a sitting posture. The effort cost him much pain, 
 but he gained his object. Duke was delighted ; he 
 ran about in a circle and barked vociferously. 
 
 leaning his back against the tree-trunk, Douglas 
 panted : 
 
 " This is better ! I'm off the flat of my back
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 201 
 
 half-way upon my feet. After a short rest I'll 
 make a further effort. What should I have done 
 without my faithful dog ? " 
 
 In attempting to shift himself to an easier position, 
 he placed his hand upon his gun, which was lying 
 where he had dropped it. With a joyful exclama- 
 tion, he caught it up and feebly dragged it across 
 his lap. Then, taking the skirt of his hunting-shirt, 
 he carefully wiped and dried the weapon, remark- 
 ing to himself as he did so : 
 
 "I have a gun I have ammunition I have 
 flint and steel. If I can manage to light a fire, I 
 shall be in no danger of freezing. Then, perhaps, 
 I may be able to shoot some animal for food pro- 
 vided it comes near my camp. I must have some- 
 thing to eat." 
 
 He sighed breathlessly. Then drawing his legs 
 well under him and using his gun as an aid, he 
 commenced slowly to arise to a standing posture, 
 all the time keeping his back firmly pressed against 
 the tree-trunk. The task was a herculean one ; but 
 after several failures he succeeded. Duke simply 
 went wild with delight, rolling over and over in the 
 snow and barking frantically. 
 
 After resting a few minutes, Douglas, leaning 
 heavily upon his rifle, tried to take a few steps. 
 His legs trembled and threatened to give way un- 
 der him, and every fiber in his body ached and 
 quivered ; but he resolutely put out one foot after 
 the other. His head swam, and he reeled and 
 tottered like an infant. But he succeeded in mak-
 
 202 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ing his way to another tree, against which he 
 leaned, gasping for breath. Standing there, he 
 tremblingly reloaded his rifle. 
 
 ' ' Better than I expected ! " he whispered with 
 bloodless lips. ' ' Much better ! Now I shall seek 
 a sheltered spot and build a fire. ' ' 
 
 Putting his resolution into action, he slowly and 
 painfully worked his way to a small depression, 
 a short distance from the scene of conflict. It was 
 half-filled with drifted leaves and snow, and almost 
 surrounded by bushes and briers. Near it were 
 the dead and dry limbs of a fallen tree. 
 
 Staggering into this natural shelter, Ross 
 dropped upon the ground. Duke accompanied 
 him. The wounded man laboriously cleared the 
 cave of the accumulated mass of snow and leaves. 
 When he had finished his hard task, he took out 
 his flint and steel, and, after several discouraging 
 failures, succeeded in starting a fire. Upon the 
 tiny flame he piled sticks from the fallen tree-tops, 
 which soon were ablaze. With a sigh of relief and 
 comfort, he fell back and closed his eyes. 
 
 After a time, however, the genial warmth pene- 
 trated his chilled and stiffened frame and aroused 
 him from the partial swoon into which he had 
 fallen. Sitting erect, he held out his hands to the 
 welcome blaze and murmured tremulously : 
 
 "What a man can do! Oh, this cough! It 
 almost strangles me ; and the pain is awful. Still 
 I'm better off than I was much better. I shall 
 not freeze, at any rate. But I must have food. I
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 203 
 
 am so weak. lyet me see," rolling his eyes 
 heavenward, "the stars indicate that it's after 
 midnight. I'll rest by the fire until morning ; 
 then I'll do what I can to procure something to 
 eat." 
 
 Again he coughed spasmodically hackingly. 
 When the paroxysm had passed, he continued his 
 whispered, broken monologue : 
 
 ' ' I wonder what became of Bright Wing and 
 Joe. I'm glad they thought me dead. , They'd 
 have sacrificed their lives by staying ; and 
 done me no good. They may be dead ; they may 
 be prisoners among the Winnebagoes ; or they 
 may have escaped. If they got away unharmed, 
 they'll return to Franklin ton and report my 
 death. My God! My God! Amy dear girl! 
 The news will break her heart. And great 
 heavens ! She may be persuaded to marry George 
 Billiard ! " 
 
 Bowing his head upon his hands, he groaned. 
 He was suffering mentally and physically. His 
 temples were throbbing ; his skin was hot and 
 dry. The demon of fever was dancing through his 
 arteries. 
 
 For some time, he sat silently staring into the 
 depths of the fire. Above him the stars winked 
 pitilessly ; around him the lean shadows glided 
 among the trees and eerily mocked him. No eye 
 but God's was upon him ; no hand was stretched 
 forth to save him. 
 
 He mused mumblingly half deliriously :
 
 204 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "Even God will not help me. He would not, 
 if he could. He has laid down inflexible laws for 
 the government of the universe ; he will not alter 
 them to accommodate the individual. But I'll 
 not despair I will not! I will overcome all 
 obstacles ; I will cheat fate. The snow has con- 
 cealed all signs of our encounter with the Winne- 
 -bagoes ; has covered our trail. Bradford and his 
 braves will never find me. On the morrow I'll 
 procure food ; then I shall be stronger. I'll 
 work my way eastward, by easy stages. Now 
 I'll lie down and try to snatch a few hours of 
 natural sleep. Oh ! This terrific cough and pain ! 
 And my head ! ' ' 
 
 He piled more dry wood upon the fire, and 
 stretched himself upon the ground. Duke nestled 
 at his back and helped to keep him warm. The 
 red blaze crackled cheerily ; the smoke and sparks 
 ascended in gyrating columns. The wounded man 
 lay and watched them until his eyelids closed. 
 
 When he awoke it was broad daylight. The 
 fire had burned down ; only a few gray embers and 
 charred bits of wood marked its place. Duke, with 
 bristles erect, was sitting by his master's side, 
 growling mutteringly warningly. It was this 
 sound that had awakened the sleeper. 
 
 Ross rubbed his eyes and sought to arise. But 
 his limbs were as lead ; his blood was as ice. He 
 stirred ; and a thousand needles pricked his flesh. 
 By great effort he sat erect. His head gave him 
 keenest torture ; his eyes threatened to drop from
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 205 
 
 their sockets. His sight was dim. Strange noises 
 rang in his ears. He tried to take a deep breath ; 
 but the pain in his chest caused him to moan 
 aloud. His heart was thumping tumultuous^. 
 Thor's hammer was beating in his brain. 
 
 Again the bloodhound uttered a hoarse, rumbling 
 growl ; and this time, sprang to his feet and ad- 
 vanced a step or two from his master's side. 
 
 "Someone or something is approaching," was 
 Douglas's mental comment. Then aloud : ' ' Watch 
 them, Duke but do not leave me ! " 
 
 But the dog had no intention of deserting his 
 charge. Rigidly erect, menace and defiance in his 
 attitude, he stood his ground. Ross listened in- 
 tently, and thought he heard stealthy footsteps 
 beyond the fringe of bushes that shut him in. But, 
 through the interstices in the brush and brambles, 
 he could see no one. Once more the hound 
 growled, and more sharply than before. Then 
 Douglas caught the patter of moccasined feet upon 
 the snow-covered leaves, and the buzz of whispered 
 words. A moment later the bushes parted and 
 a painted Shawnee peeped into the glade. 
 
 Duke's bristles quivered ; his wicked eyes blazed. 
 Revealing a double row of ivory fangs, he snarled 
 savagely and crouched for a spring. Excitement 
 lent strength to Douglas's limbs. In some way 
 he never knew how he got upon his feet and 
 flung his heavy gun to his shoulder. With a 
 grunt of surprise and terror, the Indian instantly 
 withdrew his painted visage.
 
 2 o6 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Ross sank in a heap upon the ground, whisper- 
 ing brokenly : 
 
 "Too weak too weak! I'm at their mercy. 
 Ah! Duke, old fellow, our time has come for 
 you will die fighting for me ! ' ' 
 
 And closing his aching eyes, he lay gasping. 
 
 Then came a thunderous rush among the bushes; 
 and a half dozen savages stood within the cove, 
 and as many rifles were pointed at the form of the 
 prostrate and helpless man. Duke leaped at the 
 throat of the nearest brave, and with him rolled 
 upon the ground. At that moment a husky voice 
 bellowed : 
 
 "Stop, you cowardly curs! Would you murder 
 a wounded and helpless man ? Harm a hair of his 
 head, and I'll have the life of the last one of you! 
 Didn't I tell you he was to be taken alive ? Out of 
 my way ! ' ' 
 
 It was the voice of Hiram Bradford. Douglas 
 had just enough consciousness left to realize what 
 was occurring, just enough strength remaining to 
 call off his dog. Then he swooned. 
 
 Bradford shoved the savages right and left, and 
 bent over the form of the unconscious man. He 
 placed his hand over Douglas's heart and listened 
 to the faint, irregular respiration. He gazed 
 earnestly, sadly, upon the pain-contorted features 
 of the young man. His own face was pale ; his 
 brown, sinewy hand trembled. Arising, he said to 
 the savage band he commanded : 
 
 "Start a fire ; and be quick about it ! "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 207 
 
 Then to the Pottawatomie, whom Duke had 
 attacked and who was now threatening to kill the 
 dog, as the animal lay whining at the feet of his 
 senseless idol : 
 
 " You shall not touch the dog. If you do, I'll 
 shoot you dead in your tracks. The brute did his 
 duty that's all. He was protecting the life of 
 his defenseless master. He is a noble specimen 
 of his race. I command you to let him alone. ' ' 
 
 The Pottawatomie sullenly obeyed. Bradford 
 again turned his attention to Douglas. 
 
 " Poor boy ! " he murmured softly to himself, his 
 lips quivering. ' ' Although you hate me, and would 
 kill me now, perhaps, had you the opportunity I 
 love you. God knows I've wronged you enough 
 in the past. Yet, when you had the chance, you 
 did not kill me. Would you do it now ? Heaven 
 knows ! Oh ! Why didn't you stay with me ? 
 Then this would not have occurred. Now you are 
 wounded unto death dying, I fear, before my 
 eyes. No ! you shall not die. I'll save you I 
 will ! And who has done this monstrous deed ? Is 
 it the work of white men or red ? Whichever it be, 
 they shall pay for it, if I have to follow them to the 
 ends of the earth. I vow it before God ! Shot 
 through the breast, there you lay in the ice and 
 snow, until you regained consciousness. Then you 
 pluckily made your way here and built a fire, 
 bravely fighting against all odds. Somebody left 
 you for dead somebody deserted you. But your 
 faithful dog stayed by you. I have hated the brute;
 
 2o8 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 now I could kiss his surly face. Yes, my boy, I 
 can read it all ; you have left in the snow a record 
 of your desperate fight for life ! ' ' 
 
 The strong man bowed his head. The savages, 
 engaged in building a fire and preparing to cook 
 some meat, did not notice the agitation of their 
 leader. His features worked spasmodically, and 
 the scar upon his cheek twitched painfully, as he 
 continued to whisper to himself : 
 
 " God of heaven, tell me who has done this aw- 
 ful thing ! The snow has hidden all signs of the 
 conflict if conflict there was. It, also, covered 
 your trail, my boy, and I stumbled upon you by 
 chance. But, my God ! Of what am I thinking? 
 Do I mean to let you die without an effort to save 
 you?" 
 
 Like one electrified, he leaped to his feet. All his 
 emotion had vanished. Once more he was him- 
 self the cool, firm, diplomatic leader of savage 
 men. His ordinarily husky voice rang out sharp 
 and clear as he cried : 
 
 "Listen, braves! This man is not dead he 
 must not die. You have done well you shall 
 have the gold I promised you. In addition, each 
 one of you shall have five pounds, if you do all in 
 your power to help me to get him to camp alive. 
 Stir yourselves ! Cook your meat quickly. Then 
 cut boughs and prepare a litter on which to carry 
 him. Here, Long Gun, assist me." 
 
 By this time a huge fire was roaring, that ren- 
 dered the cave warm and comfortable. A part of
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 209 
 
 the company raked red coals from their bed, and 
 upon them commenced to broil slices of meat ; while 
 others began to cut limbs and withes, and weave 
 and bind together a strong and elastic litter. 
 
 Bradford seated himself and took Douglas's head 
 upon his lap. Then he produced a flask of brandy, 
 and with Long Gun's help succeeded in pouring a 
 small quantity down the unconscious man's throat. 
 A second and third time he repeated this, ere there 
 were any signs of returning life. At last the feeble 
 heart began to beat more regularly and forcibly. 
 The pulse at the wrist became perceptible ; color 
 commenced to creep into the marble face. A long- 
 drawn respiration heaved the wounded chest, and a 
 low moan escaped from the blue lips. The white 
 lids lifted ; but there was no intelligence in the 
 fever-bright eyes. The wan demon of death had 
 yielded his throne to the riotous imp of delirium. 
 
 Bradford shrunk back and shuddered as these 
 words fell upon his ear : 
 
 "Ah, Hiram Bradford, we've met at last, in a 
 death-struggle ! Now I have you at my mercy. 
 You kept me a prisoner against my will you kept 
 me from the woman I love. You have wounded 
 me starved me frozen me. Now you shall 
 die die ! ' ' 
 
 Douglas's hands were clenched as though he held 
 an enemy by the throat. 
 
 "Ugh!" ejaculated Long Gun. "The Great 
 Spirit has robbed the young paleface of his senses. 
 14
 
 210 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Like a dog dreaming of the chase, he fights in his 
 sleep. ' ' 
 
 The Shawnee understood but little Ross said, 
 but read aright the meaning of the wounded man's 
 tone of voice and expression of countenance. 
 
 ' ' Silence ! ' ' Bradford commanded sharply. 
 
 Then, caressingly smoothing the flushed face of 
 the delirious man, he murmured soothingly : 
 
 "Don't fret yourself. Your enemies are gone; 
 you are with friends now. I'll take care of you." 
 
 ' ' Who are you ? ' ' 
 
 The bright eyes opened very wide. 
 
 "Don't, you know me?" Bradford asked, anx- 
 iety in his tone and manner. 
 
 " Yes j T es, I know you, Joe Farley. Of course 
 I know my old friend. I was sure you would come 
 back. But where is Bright Wing? " 
 
 "He'll be here soon," answered Bradford, sigh- 
 ing deeply. 
 
 "And Duke surely he hasn't deserted me 
 where is Duke ? ' ' 
 
 At mention of his name, the hound crept forward 
 and licked his master's hand. The dumb caress ap- 
 peared to soothe and assure the sick man more 
 than anything else could have done. For, with a 
 sigh of contentment, he closed his eyes and whis- 
 pered feebly : 
 
 ' ' Oh, yes ! Duke, old fellow, you are still with me. 
 You'll not let the Winnebagoes return and scalp me. 
 Watch over me, good dog, for I'm sleepy sleepy '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 211 
 
 Then he lay quiet. But his breathing was hur- 
 ried ; his pulse, bounding ; and he continued to 
 moan occasionally, and mumble and babble words 
 that could not be understood. 
 
 "The Winnebagoes ! " Bradford muttered, scowl- 
 ing darkly. 
 
 Arising, he began to hasten the preparations for 
 departure. He partook of the parched corn and 
 broiled venison the savages had prepared. After- 
 ward he took a small portion of the tender meat, 
 pressed its savory juices into a drinking cup, and 
 poured the liquid down his patient's throat. Order- 
 ing the litter brought to him, he stripped off his own 
 hunting-shirt unmindful of the chill atmosphere 
 and rolled it into a pillow for Douglas's head. 
 Carefully and tenderly placing his charge upon the 
 springy bed, he covered him with a ragged, scarlet 
 blanket which one of the Pottawatomies had worn 
 around his shoulders ; and selecting four of the 
 most stalwart warriors and giving them minute in- 
 structions how to carry the litter, he ordered the 
 band to start upon the return journey. 
 
 ' ' Do we go back to Wildcat Creek ? ' ' Long Gun 
 inquired. 
 
 " No," Bradford answered, " we go to the villages 
 of the Miamis, upon the Mississinewa. " 
 
 ' ' But are our people there ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, by this time." 
 
 " Ugh ! " was the satisfied rejoinder. 
 
 And Long Gun relapsed into his wonted silence. 
 
 All day long, the band trudged through the
 
 212 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 sheeted woodland, stopping only at noon. The In- 
 dians occasionally conversed in guttural under- 
 tones, but Scar Face maintained a moody silence. 
 A stillness as of death reigned in the forest, un- 
 broken save for the sharp rattling rap of a wood- 
 pecker now and then, or the startling whir of a 
 partridge's wings. 
 
 Bradford walked beside the litter and looked after 
 the welfare of his patient. He gave him frequent 
 doses of brandy, and at noon succeeded in getting 
 him to swallow a little shredded meat. Douglas 
 coughed almost continuously, and groaned at every 
 sudden jolt of his swinging bed. A circular bright- 
 red spot appeared upon each cheek, and the arteries 
 of his temples and neck pulsated visibly. The 
 wound he had received and the consequent exposure 
 had done their work but too well. He was suffer- 
 ing from pneumonia. 
 
 At one time during the afternoon, he became vio- 
 lently excited and made repeated attempts to arise 
 from his couch. In vain Bradford sought to soothe 
 and quiet him. Apparently understanding the 
 need of his presence, Duke trotted to the litter and 
 fondly licked the hot hand that was frantically 
 threshing the air. With a smile upon his face, Ross 
 lay back and wearily closed his wild, staring eyes. 
 
 "Wonderful!" Bradford muttered aloud, sadly 
 shaking his head. 
 
 "Wonderful wonderful," repeated the deliri- 
 ous man, in a monotonous, parrot-like voice. Then 
 with animation :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 213 
 
 "Oh, Amy! you here? No, it's L,a Violette 
 or is it Amy ? L,a Violette Amy ; I^a Violette 
 Amy. I don't know." 
 
 His words became an unintelligible jargon ; but 
 his fit of violence had passed. 
 
 At nightfall the Indians went into camp. Brad- 
 ford placed the litter near the fire, and had a screen 
 of boughs erected to shelter its occupant from the 
 night wind. Again he got his patient to take a 
 small portion of shredded meat and a little of the 
 expressed juice. The supply of brandy was almost 
 exhausted ; and he wisely resolved to save what was 
 left for an emergency. All night he sat by Ross's 
 side, giving him water, for which the poor fellow 
 begged piteously at frequent intervals, and protect- 
 ing him as best he could from the cold. 
 
 Duke fared well. Seeing his unparalleled devo- 
 tion to his master, the Indians took a fancy to the 
 intelligent animal, and fed him all he would eat. 
 
 At daylight the wearisome march was resumed ; 
 and at noon the party was drawing near the Miami 
 village upon the Mississinewa. As they entered 
 the town, hundreds of savages swarmed around 
 them, and gazed in stupefaction upon the unusual 
 spectacle of four grave and dignified warriors bear- 
 ing the litter of a wounded paleface. 
 
 Pushing his way to the center of the village, a 
 large collection of well-built lodges and cabins upon 
 the eastern bank of the stream, Bradford asked for 
 the Prophet. Tenskwatawa's domicile was pointed 
 out to him. Unceremoniously pushing aside the
 
 214 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 curtain of skins, he entered the dark hut. The 
 Prophet lay stretched upon a fur rug near the cen- 
 ter of the floor, his feet to the fire that alone 
 lighted the dismal interior. He did not offer to 
 arise at Bradford's entrance ; but greeted him with 
 a grunt of recognition. The intruder went straight 
 to the point, by saying : 
 
 " My prisoner escaped. I have recaptured him 
 and brought him here. But he is badly wounded ; 
 and I want the largest and most comfortable cabin 
 in the village, in which I may place him and nurse 
 him back to life." 
 
 The Prophet arose to a sitting position, before re- 
 plying. Then he made the heartless rejoinder : 
 
 ' ' I<et the young paleface die ! He is a member of 
 the Seventeen Fires he is an enemy. His death 
 will subtract one more from the number that ere 
 long will appear against us, to do battle. ' ' 
 
 " He shall not die," Bradford returned firmly. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 4 ' Because I will not have it so. " 
 
 ' ' Why does Scar Face so much desire to save the 
 young man's life?" the Prophet inquired, with a 
 cunning leer. 
 
 ' ' Why I wish to save his life why I will save 
 his life concerns no one but myself," was the bold 
 reply. 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa, there is no use in our re-thresh- 
 ing old straw. I have told you that this young man 
 is m5 T friend. I repeat it. You know me well 
 enough to realize that I will have my way that I
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 215 
 
 will not be balked in whatever I undertake. I^et's 
 have an end of all parleying. I want the largest 
 and best cabin in the place. Can I have it ? " 
 
 " Scar Face asks for what is not mine to bestow." 
 
 "What do you mean? Be qu;ck. I have no 
 time to waste in idle diplomacy." 
 
 "This is the village of the Miamis," was the 
 shrewd answer. ' ' The lodges are theirs. They 
 have granted my people the privilege of staying 
 here, but we must erect lodges for ourselves. When 
 that is done, Scar Face shall have one placed at his 
 disposal." 
 
 Bradford's anger was rising. His face flushed, 
 then paled ; the red scar upon his cheek quivered 
 tremulously and twitched the corner of his mouth. 
 He nervously fingered the trigger of his rifle 
 which he again had in his possession as he said 
 huskily : 
 
 ' ' An end to your lies, Tenskwatawa ! You cannot 
 deceive me. The Miamis are a part of your family. 
 You are here in one of their cabins. Tecumseh 
 has another ; and your braves are busily engaged in 
 erecting others. I want the best one in the village ; 
 and I am going to have it. Do you understand ? ' ' 
 
 The Prophet's repulsive face became more repul- 
 sive. He was angry afraid. He bent his head in 
 reply, but did not open his lips. 
 
 " Well, go and give the order ! " Bradford roared 
 impatiently. ' ' Hurry ! before I lose control of 
 myself and stamp the life out of your miserable 
 carcass ! "
 
 216 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Tenskwatawa slowly arose. His limbs were 
 shaking; his lips, trembling. The arrant coward 
 was desperately afraid his companion would carry 
 his threat into execution. And no help was at 
 hand. When he could command his voice, he said : 
 
 " But the best lodge has been given to L,a Vio- 
 lette and the woman who attends her. ' ' 
 
 " What of the council lodge? " 
 
 ' ' I have made it a temple of the Great Spirit. 
 You cannot have it." 
 
 And the Prophet flung up his head, with a ges- 
 ture of weak defiance. 
 
 Bradford was furious. He was on the point of 
 giving full sway to his seething passion, and beat- 
 ing the brains out of the miserable wretch before 
 him; but he thought of the wounded man upon the 
 litter outside, and checked himself. 
 
 " Where is La Violette ? " he hissed fiercely. 
 
 As if in answer to the question, the curtain of 
 skin was pushed aside, and the young woman 
 stepped into the room. Bradford turned at her en- 
 trance. By the dim light of the flickering fire, he 
 saw that she was pale and excited. 
 
 " Hiram Bradford, what is the meaning of this? " 
 she cried sharply. 
 
 He thought she referred to his presence in the 
 Prophet's hut, and was attempting to frame a suit- 
 able reply, when she imperiously stamped her little 
 foot and demanded : 
 
 " Answer me! Why have you killed that young 
 man? And you claimed to be his friend! "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 217 
 
 ' ' Do you mean Ross Douglas ? ' ' Bradford re- 
 turned wonderingly. 
 
 ' ' I mean Fleet Foot Ross Douglas yes. ' ' 
 
 "He's not dead," Bradford hastened to explain, 
 "but he's " 
 
 "Desperately wounded," she completed in icy 
 tones. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Why did you do it?" 
 
 " You wrong me. I didn't harm him " 
 
 "No," she interrupted angrily, "but you 
 permitted the warriors you had with you to shoot 
 him, when he was trying to regain his liberty. It 
 was murder ! For shame ! You are worse than a 
 wild beast !" 
 
 As she finished speaking, her breast was heaving 
 and tears were in her violet eyes. 
 
 In a few words Bradford explained to her what 
 had happened, and asked her for the use of the cabin 
 she occupied. The cloud partially lifted from her 
 face, and she answered quickly : 
 
 "I am glad that neither you, nor the warriors 
 under your command, committed this awful deed. 
 For I have learned to look upon you as a brave 
 man, and merciful even to your bitterest enemies." 
 Bradford winced slightly. " You can have the 
 cabin I have occupied, on one condition." 
 
 " Name it," he said promptly. 
 
 "That I be permitted to nurse your your 
 friend, shall I say? back to health." 
 
 For a moment she keenly eyed him, to note the
 
 2i8 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 effect of her words. Then, seeming to realize that 
 she had made an unusual proposition, she continued 
 confusedly : 
 
 "I I promised when he saved my life, to do all 
 in my power to set him free. I meant to keep my 
 word. But his friends came to his rescue, and he 
 regained his freedom without my assistance ; only 
 to lose it again. Now he is in great need of tender 
 care ; and I want to repay him for risking his life in 
 my behalf. I feel that I am indebted to him. Do 
 you accept my proposal ? " 
 
 "Gladly," Bradford answered quickly, a strange 
 light flashing in his blue eyes. ' ' Nothing would 
 please me more than to have your assistance." 
 
 "Then it is settled," she returned quietly. 
 ' ' Carry him to the cabin at once. I will come 
 soon." 
 
 The Prophet witnessed all that passed ; but he of- 
 fered no opposition to the arrangement. Perhaps 
 he felt it would be useless to do so. 
 
 After thanking the young woman, Bradford 
 withdrew and had the wounded man carried to the 
 place agreed upon. As he placed his charge upon 
 a couch of soft furs and strove to make him as com- 
 fortable as possible, the older man whispered to 
 himself : 
 
 "Oh, if I can save his life! If I can save his 
 life!" Fate is playing into my hands. All will yet 
 be well. I shall realize my desire. But he might 
 die! Oh, God! He must not, he shall not ! "
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FOR days Ross Douglas lay unconscious, fighting 
 all the powers of fever and delirium battling 
 for his life. Hiram Bradford was his constant 
 companion and nurse. La Violette was an able and 
 devoted assistant. 
 
 On the day following his arrival in the village of 
 the Miamis, Bradford procured from a French 
 trader who had just come across from Canada a 
 quantity of brandy, and a few drugs, the uses of 
 which he knew. Armed with these, he assumed the 
 province of physician and strove manfully to save 
 the young man's life. 
 
 La Violette was unremitting in her tender care. 
 She prepared hot poultices of cornmeal and dried 
 herbs, which relieved the patient's distressing 
 cough, and gave him rest, when all other means 
 failed. Several times a day she brought him nour- 
 ishing broths, and coaxed him to drink them. Her 
 deft fingers rearranged his bed of furs ; and her ca- 
 ressing touch soothed him to slumber. When 
 Bradford was snatching a few hours' sleep or 
 taking exercise in the open air, the young woman 
 sat by the patient's couch all her soul in her 
 beautiful face. At such times her countenance was 
 transfigured. Caressingly stroking Douglas's raven 
 
 (219)
 
 220 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 locks, damp with the dews of suffering, she fixed 
 her violet eyes upon his dark, handsome features 
 and listened eagerly to the words that fell from his 
 lips. He was delirious there was little sense to 
 his babble. It mattered not to La Violette ; she 
 loved to hear his voice. 
 
 When he tossed restively and coughed and moaned, 
 she patted his great brown hand and spoke sooth- 
 ingly to him. And with a smile flitting about his 
 mouth, he fell asleep. Then with swift, timorous 
 glances around her, she bent and tenderly pressed 
 her ripe lips to his white brow. She was drinking 
 deeply of the rosy, intoxicating cup of love, un- 
 mindful of the lees at the bottom. 
 
 Duke had a place in one corner of the cabin. At 
 times he would leave his bed and, trotting to his 
 master's couch, would fondly lick his hand. Then he 
 would throw himself upon the ground and intently 
 watch all that was going on. The hound barely 
 tolerated Bradford's presence, and would growl 
 warningly whenever the latter attempted any play- 
 ful familiarity. But L,a Violette could take the 
 surly animal's head upon her lap, and pull his pen- 
 dulous ears, with impunity. 
 
 One day Bradford lay asleep upon a pile of furs, 
 in one corner of the hut. L,a Violette was watch- 
 ing at Douglas's side. A violent fit of coughing as- 
 sailed the patient, and he groaned aloud. His hands 
 growing thinner and whiter day by day clutched 
 frantically at his throat. His wan, emaciated 
 countenance was contorted by a spasm of pain.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 221 
 
 Duke softly trotted to the young woman's side and, 
 dropping at her feet, beseechingly looked up into 
 her face. 
 
 "Yes yes, noble fellow," La Violette mur- 
 mured tearfully, " I will do all I can for him. 
 For " in the faintest whisper ' ' we love him 
 you and I! " 
 
 At that moment Bradford awoke, and, through 
 his half-closed lids, dreamily watched the play be- 
 fore him. He saw La Violette pat the dog's head 
 and whisper to him. Then she turned her attention 
 to the restless sufferer renewing the poultice upon 
 his chest, changing the position of his head and 
 gently soothing him to rest, as a mother would 
 quiet a fretful child. It was a pretty picture; and 
 Bradford smiled a self-satisfied smile, as he gazed 
 upon it. He was about to close his eyes, in an at- 
 tempt to sleep again, when he observed La Violette 
 bend down and passionately kiss the unconscious 
 man's lips. 
 
 " Amy, Amy! " Douglas mumbled, his dry tongue 
 hardly able to shape the words. "Is it you, 
 Amy and have you come to me at last? I've 
 wanted you so long so long! And you are still 
 true to me ? Say that you are, Amy. For I dreamed 
 or did someone tell me? that you were false 
 false!" 
 
 La Violette started back as if someone had dealt 
 her a sharp blow. She glanced apprehensively 
 toward Bradford's couch ; but he appeared to be 
 sleeping. Her beautiful face was colorless ; her vio-
 
 222 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 let eyes were swimming with tears. Bending over 
 her charge, she whispered faintly : 
 
 "Who is Amy?" 
 
 "Amy, Amy," Douglas repeated, parrot-like. 
 
 " It is not Amy, ' ' she murmured tenderly lov- 
 ingly. " It is I La Violette ; and I love you ! ' ' 
 
 " Ah! " the delirious man ejaculated, and opened 
 his eyes very wide. 
 
 She started back. She feared yet hoped he 
 had recognized her, understood her meaning. His 
 next words undeceived her, however. 
 
 "You you cannot fool me," he mumbled 
 huskily. "You are Amy. I I love you, Amy 
 
 And then he closed his eyes and lay quiet, the 
 movement of his parched lips alone telling that he 
 was communing with the phantoms that beset his 
 feverish brain. 
 
 I/a Violette bowed her golden head and wept con- 
 vulsively. Duke thrust his cold muzzle against her 
 hand, in token of sympathy. Impulsively the girl 
 threw her arms around the animal's neck, and 
 hugged him. Then she again hid her face and gave 
 way to her acute grief. Already she was beginning 
 to taste the bitter dregs in the bottom of the cup of 
 love. 
 
 Bradford arose, and, lightly moving to her side, 
 laid his hand upon her shoulder. She sprang to 
 her feet, an exclamation of alarm upon her lips. 
 When she saw who it was that confronted her, she 
 proudly threw back her head her eyes alight with
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 223 
 
 anger. Tossing aside her disheveled hair, she cried 
 scornfully : 
 
 ' ' Hiram Bradford, you have been spying upon 
 me." 
 
 "I was awake," he returned quietly. "I saw 
 all. You love him." 
 
 Her face grew crimson then paled. 
 
 ' ' And if I do ? " she said defiantly. 
 
 "Nothing," he answered, his husky voice hus- 
 kier than usual. ' ' I'm glad you do love him. 
 And if he live he shall be yours. You were 
 made for each other. ' ' 
 
 " Do do you think he is is going to die ? " she 
 asked falteringly. 
 
 ' ' No ; we two will save him. He'll learn to 
 love you the lesson will not be a hard one. ' ' 
 
 " But " and she hesitated. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 ' ' He loves another. ' ' 
 
 ' ' How do you know that ? ' ' 
 
 " I had it from his own lips." 
 
 Bradford playfully patted her cheek which 
 caused Duke to growl menacingly as he replied : 
 
 " Pshaw, little one! You must give no heed to 
 the vaporings of a delirious brain. Wait until he's 
 himself. You'll see how easily you can win his love. 
 He babbled of you when I was bringing him here." 
 
 "Did he?" And a glad light sprang into her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Yes. L,eave everything to me. I've been 
 your friend in the past ; I'm your friend now.
 
 224 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 And both of us are his friends. Now go for a walk 
 in the open air and get some color into your 
 cheeks. ' ' 
 
 The days and weeks dragged drearily. Ross 
 Douglas did not arise from the depths of fever and 
 delirium, into which his wound had plunged him. 
 Daily he grew weaker and thinner. In spite of the 
 unremitting care of his nurses, he seemed slowly 
 but surely drifting toward the shores of the un- 
 known. November passed; December came and 
 Christmas was drawing near. And still the hosts 
 of death laid siege to the citadel of his life. 
 
 In the meantime, disaffection again arose in the 
 ranks of the Prophet's followers. The winter was 
 severe ; and food was scarce. Many of the Indians 
 drifted away from the Mississinewa, in search of 
 game, or returned to their old homes. Tecumseh sat 
 in his cabin, moodily pondering over the condition of 
 affairs. Yet had it not been for his presence, his 
 and his brother's followers would have deserted, to 
 a man. As it was, only the Miamis and a faithful 
 few of the various tribes remained. In the latter 
 part of November, Tenskwatawa sent messengers to 
 Fort Harrison, to ask for a share of the annuities 
 that were being distributed to the peaceable sav- 
 ages. These messengers succeeded in deceiving the 
 agent at the post, and returned to Mississinewa with 
 a large amount of provisions and other stores. 
 
 About this time, also, the English learning of 
 the Prophet's defeat and misfortunes sent him a 
 supply of arms, ammunition, blankets, and cooking
 
 22$ 
 
 utensils. Bradford distributed these goods impar- 
 tially. 
 
 Toward the last of December, the weather sud- 
 denly grew warmer and game again appeared in the 
 vicinity of the village. Despondency and gloom 
 gave way to feasting and rejoicing. 
 
 One morning, a few days before Christmas, La 
 Violette sat by Douglas's couch. Bradford had been 
 up all night. Now he lay sleeping the sleep of ut- 
 ter nervous exhaustion. The fire in the middle of 
 the room burned dimly casting angular shadows 
 upon the rough log walls. Outside the rain fell 
 drearily. The earth was water-soaked ; the air, fog- 
 laden and chilly. 
 
 Nothing broke the stillness of the room, but the 
 muffled, sullen rush of the distant stream and the 
 low, incoherent mutterings of the restless patient. 
 Uneasily he moved his head from side to side, and 
 aimlessly picked at imaginary objects in the air. 
 He was the shadow of his magnificent self. His 
 hollow, burning eyes were wide open and staring; 
 his parched lips, drawn apart. No color was in his 
 face, except the hectic spots upon his sunken 
 cheeks. 
 
 La Violette was pale and worn. As she looked 
 upon the wreck of virile manhood before her, she 
 sighed deeply, and despondently shook her head. 
 
 Even as she looked upon the sick man, an abrupt 
 change came over him. His lips ceased to move 
 and gradually turned blue; his teeth set themselves 
 with a sharp click. The hectic spots upon his 
 
 15
 
 226 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 cheeks faded, leaving his face of marble whiteness; 
 and an icy sweat bathed his brow and temples. A 
 rigor shook his emaciated form from head to foot; 
 his breathing became irregular. 
 
 I^a Violette caught his hand in hers, and found 
 it cold and clammy. Springing to her feet, she ran 
 to Bradford and aroused him. He was wide awake 
 in an instant. 
 
 "What's the matter?" he inquired anxiously. 
 
 ' ' He is dying ! " 
 
 The words fell like leaden balls. Bradford felt 
 each of them strike his heart. The girl's face wore 
 a horrified expression. Without waiting to hear 
 more, Bradford ran to his patient's bedside. After 
 a hurried examination he announced : 
 
 " The crisis has arrived ! He's not dying we 
 can yet save him. Don't get excited don't lose 
 your head. Roll that hot stone in a blanket, and 
 place it to his feet. That's right you're as 
 steady as a clock. Heat another blanket to wrap 
 around him. Have no fear we shall save him. 
 Now get me the flask of brandy and the small white 
 powders that are in the pocket of my hunting- 
 shirt. What a brave little woman you are ! " 
 
 Her hands were shaking like aspen leaves ; but 
 she obeyed his orders. When the medicines were 
 in his possession, Bradford poured out a quantity 
 of the fiery liquid and dropped into it the white 
 powder. Then quickly mixing the two, he forcibly 
 poured the whole down the dying man's throat. 
 
 Silently he watched for the effects of the power-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 227 
 
 ful draught. They were not long in showing 
 themselves. The rigor passed ; and a warm glow 
 suffused the patient's neck and face, and rose to his 
 temples. Pulse and respiration gradually grew 
 steadier stronger ; and feet and hands regained 
 their accustomed warmth. A natural moisture 
 overspread the body. And the sick man sank into 
 a deep, dreamless sleep. 
 
 For an hour the two nurses sat by Ross's side 
 neither speaking a word. At last Bradford yawned 
 and remarked : 
 
 ' ' He's all right now, little girl. The worst is 
 over. I'm going to finish my nap. Don't dis- 
 turb him let him sleep as long as he will. When 
 he awakes he'll be conscious. Call me, if he 
 rouses before I do. Be brave a little longer ; and all 
 will be well." 
 
 For hours the two men slept. L,a Violette 
 scarcely dared to breathe, for fear of waking her 
 charge. Noon came. Bradford arose, and, ap- 
 proaching the couch, closely inspected the sleeper. 
 
 "He's doing nicely," he said. Then noting L,a 
 Violette' s pallid face : 
 
 ' ' Come you must get out of here. I don't 
 care to take charge of another patient just now. I 
 never did like the practice of the profession. Take 
 a turn in the open air and get something to eat 
 while you're gone." 
 
 But she resolutely shook her head, as she re- 
 plied : 
 
 ' ' I will stay by him until he awakes. You go 
 you need air and exercise more than I."
 
 228 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " You'll go when I return ? " he asked. 
 
 "If he be awake yes. ' ' 
 
 Bradford smiled to himself, as he passed through 
 the door, murmuring : 
 
 ' ' I know your desire, my sweet maid. You want 
 your face to be the first he shall see when he re- 
 gains consciousness your voice to be the first he 
 shall hear. Ah! L,ove may make cowards of men; 
 but it makes angels of women. ' ' 
 
 After Bradford left the cabin, I^a Violette 
 kneeled upon the bare ground at the sleeping man's 
 side and gazed long and earnestly into his face, 
 moving her lips as though in prayer. Then she 
 timidly took his thin hand between her soft palms 
 and kissed it gently reverently, again and again. 
 At last he stirred and opened his eyes. The blank 
 stare of delirium was gone ; there was intelligence 
 in the look he fastened upon her. Embarrassed, 
 she dropped his hand and drew herself erect, her 
 face aflame. His lips moved ; and she caught the 
 faint whisper : 
 
 "La Violette." 
 
 She nodded, but placed her finger upon her lips, 
 in token of silence. 
 
 " Where am I? " he persisted. 
 
 "With friends," she answered feelingly. "But 
 you are very weak ; you must not talk." 
 
 Unheeding her words, he went on in a feeble, 
 whispering tone : 
 
 " I'm so helpless. Have I been very ill ? " 
 
 " Yes ; you have been very ill. Please do not try 
 to talk ; the effort will hurt you. ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 229 
 
 Leaving his side, she brought a cup of gruel from 
 the fire where it had been warming upon the 
 coals and insisted that he drink it. L,ike a fret- 
 ful child, he pushed it aside and whimpered : 
 
 ' ' Answer my questions answer my questions ! " 
 
 Seeing that he was growing excited, she said 
 soothingly : 
 
 ' ' Drink this for me, and I will answer your 
 questions. Take it all that's right. Now, what 
 do you want to know ? ' ' 
 
 " Where am I at Wildcat Creek?" 
 
 ' ' No ; you are at the village of the Miamis, upon 
 the Mississinewa." 
 
 ' ' Who brought me here ? " 
 
 "Hiram Bradford." 
 
 "Bradford? Ah, yes! I remember now. I 
 was wounded by the Winnebagoes. My compan- 
 ions left me, thinking I was dead. How long have 
 I been here several days ? " 
 
 ' ' Several weeks. ' ' 
 
 ' ' So long ! Who has taken care of of me ? " 
 
 He was panting for breath. Noting which, she 
 answered kindly but firmly : 
 
 "Bradford has taken care of you. But you 
 must talk no more you are too weak. Close your 
 eyes and try to sleep. ' ' 
 
 ' ' And you have helped to nurse me, ' ' he 
 went on brokenly. "I know you have. I was 
 dimly dimly conscious of your presence. But I 
 thought you were were " 
 
 "You must talk no more," she sternly inter-
 
 2 3 o THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 rupted. ' ' If you do not obey me, I will leave you 
 here alone. ' ' 
 
 A feeble, flickering- smile for one brief moment 
 illuminated his ghastly features. Then it was gone, 
 and he murmured faintly : 
 
 " No, don't leave me. I'll obey you." 
 
 And obediently he closed his eyes, and was soon 
 fast asleep. 
 
 A few minutes later Bradford returned. 
 
 "Still sleeping?" he inquired softly, gazing into 
 the upturned face. 
 
 "He has been awake," I^a Violette answered 
 quietly. 
 
 ' ' Ah ! And he recognized you ? " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 ' ' Did he ask you any questions ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' He wanted to know where he was, who had 
 brought him here, and who nursed him." 
 
 ' ' You answered his questions ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 ' ' I gave him some gruel and commanded him to 
 go to sleep." 
 
 "And he obeyed you. I couldn't have done 
 better myself. Now you must keep the promise 
 you made me. Take a short walk ; then eat some- 
 thing and seek the rest you so much need. I don't 
 want to see you back here until tomorrow morning. 
 Come you must do as I say. ' ' 
 
 Listlessly, pathetically, L,a Violette left the cabin ; 
 and Bradford took her place by Douglas's couch.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 231 
 
 Ross improved very slowly. It was the first of 
 February before he could totter across the room 
 and take a peep at the outer world. He was 
 greatly reduced in flesh and strength ; he was nerv- 
 ous and irritable. His muscles were soft, his 
 buoyant disposition was gone, and his mind seemed 
 feeble and apathetic. Bradford and I,a Violette 
 did all they could to cheer and encourage him 
 but in vain. lyike a water-logged vessel, he drifted 
 this way and that in the eddy of conflicting 
 emotions and made little progress toward the 
 haven of health. 
 
 Out of patience, at last, Bradford said to him : 
 
 " lyook here, young man ! Do you want to get 
 well ? If you do, you've got to rouse yourself. 
 Shake off your lethargy and be a man. You're 
 acting the baby. I'm ashamed of you." 
 
 Ross proudly straightened his thin form. His 
 nostrils dilated and quivered. Something like his 
 old self-reliance flashed in his hollow eyes, as he 
 cried in piping tones : 
 
 "Hiram Bradford, you're very brave now; you 
 insult a man who is too weak to give you the drub- 
 bing your words merit. You've forgotten that I 
 defeated you in a fair contest of strength and skill 
 when I was myself. Yes, I will rouse myself ; 
 I will try to recover my health if for no other 
 purpose than to make you eat your words ! ' ' 
 
 A spasm of pain contorted Bradford's scarred 
 face. But quickly recovering his equanimity, he 
 chuckled huskily :
 
 7. 3 2 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "That's it get angry at me. I thought I 
 could stir you. You feel better already, don't 
 you?" 
 
 Douglas earnestly scanned the speaker's face for 
 a full minute. Bradford burst out laughing. With 
 a sheepish grin, the younger man said : 
 
 ' ' I understand you now. Your words and 
 actions are a part of your plan of treatment, eh ? 
 Well, I'll shake off my lethargy if I can. I'll be 
 a man, and strive to recover my health and strength. 
 I am ashamed of myself. Please forgive my child- 
 ish petulance. Here is my hand." 
 
 The two shook hands, silently solemnly. Then 
 Douglas continued : 
 
 ' ' Twice you have saved my life, Bradford. I am 
 grateful I don't hate you as I did. I may as 
 well confess that I rather like you that I feel you 
 are my friend. I want to thank you for your un- 
 remitting and tender care. Yet I cannot under- 
 stand why you keep me a prisoner. And here I 
 give you fair warning: As soon as I'm able, I'll 
 again try to escape." 
 
 A smile almost beatific lighted the elder man's 
 marred visage, as he replied feelingly : 
 
 ' ' I am your friend ; and I am delighted to know 
 you begin to realize it. Please say again that you 
 don't hate me." 
 
 " I don't hate you," Ross said quietly. 
 
 "And you wouldn't harm me, if you could?" 
 
 "No unless " 
 
 "Unless what?"
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 233 
 
 " Unless you should offer injury to me or some 
 one dear to me." 
 
 "Which I'll never do," Bradford answered 
 earnestly. " Now we understand each other. 
 You're to try to get well ; I'm to help you. You're 
 going to try to escape; I'm going to try to prevent 
 you from succeeding. Have I stated the case cor- 
 rectly?" 
 
 ' ' Yes, ' ' Douglas returned smilingly. 
 
 "Very well. Now you'd better lie down and 
 take a nap. You're tired." 
 
 From that day, Ross began to improve more 
 rapidly. His cough gradually subsided ; his appe- 
 tite grew better. He commenced to regain strength 
 and flesh. But the lancinating pain was still in his 
 chest ; and it took but little exercise or excitement 
 to exhaust him. Then, too, his mind was per- 
 turbed. The stronger he grew, the more he chafed 
 under the yoke of captivity. He worried about 
 Amy. He thought of her by day, and dreamed of 
 her by night. Was she alive was she well ? Was 
 she grieving over his supposed death, or was she 
 wholly unaware of the misfortunes that had be- 
 fallen him ? 
 
 "If I only knew!" he would groan in his an- 
 guish. ' ' Did Bright Wing and Joe escape and 
 return to Franklinton ? If they did, have they told 
 all they knew? And, thinking me dead, she may 
 have married George Hilliard ! " 
 
 Then, in his excitement, he would stride up and 
 down the room, until he was in a state of nervous
 
 234 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 collapse and compelled to seek his bed, to lie fretting 
 and planning until sleep came to his relief. 
 
 Bradford noticed that his patient was always 
 worse after being left to himself for a short time, 
 and shrewdly suspected the cause. He spoke to La 
 Violette about the matter ; and they decided that 
 one or the other of them would be with Ross con- 
 stantly. 
 
 As spring approached, the weather grew milder. 
 On fine, warm days, Douglas and Duke always 
 accompanied by Bradford or L,a Violette took short 
 strolls through the village. But on wet, cold days, 
 he was compelled to crouch by the fire in his miser- 
 able cabin, a prey to his own gloomy thoughts. It 
 was on such occasions that L,a Violette came as a 
 ministering angel to cheer and comfort him. She 
 talked to him, sang to him, read to him her heart 
 upon her sleeve, her soul in her beautiful eyes. But 
 he was blind he saw nothing. To him she was a 
 fair, lovable child unused to the ways of the 
 world. She talked to him ; he heard only her words, 
 and gave no heed to the tender inflection of her 
 voice. She sang quaint little love ballads to him; 
 he closed his eyes and listened dreamily to her bird- 
 like notes scarcely noticing the sentiment of the 
 song. She read to him from two or three old French 
 books, tales of love and chivalry ; but he took the 
 stories for what they were worth and lost sight of 
 the reader. He noticed her marked preference for 
 his society ; but thought only that she desired to 
 amuse him to be amused herself. He looked upon
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 235 
 
 her and pronounced her very beautiful ; he thor- 
 oughly enjoyed her society. He was interested in 
 her, and wondered who and what she was. He re- 
 spected her, pitied her, felt grateful for what she 
 had done for him. He would have fought for her 
 died for her. But did he love her did she love 
 him ? He never asked himself the questions. Per- 
 haps he did not dare to do so perhaps he was will- 
 fully blind. At any rate, he was true as steel to 
 Amy Larkin. 
 
 One day when La Violette had been reading to 
 him for some time, she stopped suddenly and, clos- 
 ing her book, remarked naively : 
 
 ' ' You are not interested in what I have been 
 reading. Do you want me to sing to you, or talk 
 to you ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Talk to me, please. ' ' 
 
 " Of what or whom ? " 
 
 ' ' Of yourself. ' ' 
 
 " Of myself?" in pleased surprise. It was the 
 first time he had manifested so great an interest in 
 her. 
 
 ' ' Yes, of yourself, ' ' he repeated. 
 
 " But there is so little to tell," she objected. 
 
 "There is much I'd like to know," he said 
 earnestly. ' ' May I ask you some pointed questions? " 
 
 He lay upon a fur rug at her feet. As he turned 
 to look at her, their eyes met. He unflinchingly 
 met her ardent gaze ; she dropped her white lids and 
 blushed. Then recovering herself she answered 
 composedly :
 
 236 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "You may ask me any questions you choose." 
 
 ' ' And will you answer them ? ' ' 
 
 "I will." 
 
 For the moment he was disconcerted. He had 
 expected her to refuse his request. However, he 
 said : 
 
 " How long have you been among the Indians ? " 
 
 "Among the Indians?" in well-feigned sur- 
 prise. " I am an Indian." 
 
 Her eyes were dancing mischievously. 
 
 ' ' You are not a savage, " he replied coldly. ' ' You 
 can't deceive me." 
 
 " I am not a savage but I am an Indian, surely. 
 Tenskwatawa is my father." 
 
 And she laughed merrily. 
 
 ' ' Why do you tell me that ? Do you expect me 
 to believe so palpable a falsehood ? ' ' 
 
 Instantly her mood changed. Her lips trembled 
 and unshed tears stood in her eyes, as she answered 
 sadly : 
 
 " Because it is all I know to tell. My earliest 
 recollection is of playing among the children of the 
 Shawnees. Tenskwatawa was pointed out to me 
 as my father. From that day until I was ten years 
 old as nearly as I know my age I was under his 
 charge. During all that time the aged Indian 
 woman, who is my attendant now, ministered to 
 my childish needs and wants was all the mother I 
 ever knew. At the age of ten I was an uncouth 
 little savage. I went with the tribe from one camp 
 to another. I knew no other life I cared for
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 237 
 
 naught but the companionship of my savage 
 friends " 
 
 " How similar to my own experience ! " he mut- 
 tered. 
 
 " What did you say ? " she asked quickly. 
 
 " Pardon my interruption," he replied. " Please 
 go on with your story." 
 
 ' ' When I was ten years old, we were encamped 
 upon the Maumee. There it was that I first saw 
 Hiram Bradford so far as I know. It was in the 
 autumn when he came among us. He appeared to 
 have great influence with my father, Tenskwatawa. 
 One day I overheard the two talking or quarrel- 
 ing, rather. Both were very angry. I heard my 
 name mentioned ; and with childish intuition I knew 
 that some calamity threatened me. I ran and hid ; 
 but shortly my father found me, and told me I was 
 to leave the tribe and accompany Scar Face that 
 is the name Bradford bears among the Indians. I 
 remember I cried bitterly and clung to Crane Bill, 
 my nurse. But Bradford took me in his arms and 
 bore me away. He took me to Quebec and placed 
 me in charge of some French women, who taught a 
 mission school. There I remained six years and 
 there I received the little education I possess. Two 
 years ago he took me from my good friends whom 
 I had learned to love dearly and brought me back 
 to the tribe." 
 
 She stopped abruptly, her breast heaving. 
 
 " Go on," Ross said gently.
 
 238 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' There is no more to tell, ' ' was the half- whis- 
 pered reply. 
 
 "That's all you know of yourself? " 
 
 " It is " nodding. 
 
 "Do you know anything of Bradford's history ? " 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 " You are eighteen years old ? " 
 
 "As nearly as I know." 
 
 "And you know nothing of your people ?" 
 
 " You are among them." 
 
 "You mean these dirty, idle savages?" 
 
 ' ' Yes. They are all the friends I have ever 
 known, except Bradford, the teachers and pupils at 
 the mission school and yourself. ' ' 
 
 "You haven't the faintest recollection of your 
 parents your childhood home ? " he persisted. 
 
 1 ' Sometimes," she answered chokingly, ' ' I dream 
 of lying as a babe in the arms of a fair-haired, blue- 
 eyed woman, and seeing her smile down at me. 
 But that is all it is but a dream." 
 
 ' ' Has Tenskwatawa always been kind to you ? ' ' 
 
 " Kind and deferential." 
 
 " But you know you feel that he isn't your 
 father?" 
 
 For a few seconds she was silent. Then she said : 
 
 ' ' The tribe believes he is my father that I am 
 a gift from the Great Spirit. Crane Bill, my old 
 nurse, told me one time that Tenskwatawa found 
 me in the forest, where the Great Spirit had placed 
 me. That is all I know."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 239 
 
 " Have you never questioned Tenskwatawa? " 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 ' ' He said that what the tribe believes is true 
 and would say no more. ' ' 
 
 "And Bradford?" 
 
 ' ' He patted my cheek and told me to be patient 
 that one day I should know all." 
 
 ' ' Nothing more ? ' ' 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " He has always treated you kindly respect- 
 fully?" 
 
 "Always." 
 
 " And you like him ?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 ' ' Better than you like me ? ' ' 
 
 He asked the question innocently playfully, as 
 he would have put it to a child, expecting her to 
 answer in the same spirit. But she did nothing of 
 the kind. Instead, she placed her hand upon his 
 and began passionately : 
 
 "Fleet Foot, you will never know " 
 
 Then she suddenly checked herself, and, hiding 
 her face, burst into tears. 
 
 Douglas was surprised horrified. For the first 
 time, he had an inkling of the truth. He did not 
 know what to do what to say. Her disheveled, 
 red-gold hair, her beaded dress of bright-colored 
 cloth, her slender form shaking with sobs all gave 
 her the appearance of a grieved child. The tempta- 
 tion assailed him to take her in his arms, kiss away
 
 240 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 her tears, and tell her he loved her. But Amy 
 Larkin's face arose before him ; and condemning 
 himself for a weakling, he set his teeth and regained 
 control of himself. When he felt equal to the task, 
 he gently but firmly removed her hands from her 
 face and said : 
 
 "There you mustn't cry anymore. I don't 
 doubt your friendship." He accented the word. 
 "You've been very kind to me; and I appreciate 
 all you have done. Now, if you'll listen, I'll 
 tell you the story of my life, in return for what you 
 have told me of yours. Are you ready to hear 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes," she answered in an almost inaudible tone, 
 as she dried her eyes and sought to compose her 
 features. 
 
 Unheeding her evident embarrassment, and the 
 dry sobs that at intervals shook her willowy form, 
 he proceeded to tell her of himself. She listened 
 with rapt attention. When he had finished his 
 narrative, he said : 
 
 ' ' You see, L/a Violette, there is great similarity 
 in our experiences. ' ' 
 
 "Yes," she murmured softly. 
 
 "The knowledge should make us closer friends." 
 
 He laid stress upon the word friends. 
 
 ' ' I cannot be a better friend to you than I have 
 been than I have tried to be, at least," she replied 
 tremulously. 
 
 Then she arose and darted from the room. 
 
 When he had recovered from the surprise her
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 241 
 
 sudden departure had caused him, he muttered 
 gloomily : 
 
 "Am I an egotistical fool, or has she untutored 
 in the ways of the world shown me her woman's 
 heart ? I pity her her lot is a sad one. Who is 
 she ? No matter ; I mustn't wrong her. She's 
 innocence itself. A child a mere child ! Yet a 
 woman with a woman's heart ! She is beautiful 
 lovable. A wild flower a violet. A face and form 
 to charm an artist ! If it were not for Bah ! Of 
 what am I thinking ? Oh, that I were my old self 
 that I might escape from this hateful place and 
 return to the little woman who is grieving over my 
 prolonged absence ! " 
 
 Contracting his brows, he strode to the door and 
 looked out at the falling rain. 
 16
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 sprightly month of April brought sunny 
 days and warm showers, opening buds and 
 singing birds. 
 
 Ross Douglas had almost recovered his wonted 
 health and strength. A slight twinge of pain in his 
 chest, at times, and a little shortness of breath, on 
 exercise, alone remained to remind him of his 
 tedious illness. 
 
 He wandered about the village at will ; but he 
 was unarmed, and dozens of watchful eyes were 
 upon him. He saw no chance of escape. At night 
 Bradford occupied the cabin with him, never leav- 
 ing him alone. 
 
 Frequently he met I/a Violette and tried to talk 
 with her ; but she was shy and reserved, and had 
 little to say. He fancied that she avoided him 
 and it piqued him. Man-like he could not under- 
 stand that she was trying to conquer her love for 
 him; and he sought to re-establish their familiar 
 companionship. His influence over her was such 
 she loved him so that he succeeded. She could 
 not resist his magnetic power. And with the true 
 abandon of a simple, passionate child of the forest, 
 she again drank of the intoxicating cup of love 
 and for the time was happy in paradise. 
 
 Ross, also, became more cheerful. Perhaps he 
 (242)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 243 
 
 had missed her companionship more than he would 
 own more than he knew. At any rate he was 
 happier when she was at his side when her violet 
 eyes looked trustingly into his own gray ones, and 
 her artless prattle fell upon his ear. 
 
 One day in the early part of the month, Bradford 
 entered the hut and remarked : 
 
 ' ' Douglas, I have your gun here the one I took 
 from you at Wildcat Creek. Do you want it ? " 
 
 " Certainly," Ross replied with animation. 
 
 ' ' You can have it and this pouch of ammuni- 
 tion on one condition. ' ' 
 
 "Name it." 
 
 "That you don't try to escape again." 
 
 " I won't try to escape for the present." 
 
 "That's rather indefinite," laughed the older 
 man. "Explain." 
 
 ' ' When I have determined to make another at- 
 tempt, I'll apprise you of the fact. Is that satis- 
 factory?" 
 
 "Perfectly. Here's your gun. I think a little 
 tramping about the woods will do you good. At 
 least, it will help you to pass the time. You may go 
 out with the Indians or by yourself, as you please. 
 You have given me your word I can trust you." 
 
 Having his trusty rifle again in his possession, 
 Douglas felt more like a man less like a prisoner. 
 Every day, almost, he took a long jaunt through the 
 woods adjacent to the village, his weapon upon his 
 shoulder. His object was twofold. He desired to 
 toughen his muscles and regain his old powers of
 
 244 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 endurance, and to become acquainted with the topog- 
 raphy of the surrounding country. For he meant 
 to make another desperate effort to escape, as soon 
 as he felt equal to the task. 
 
 April gave place to May. The trees were in full 
 leaf ; the wild flowers, in full bloom. The air was 
 warm and fragrant ; and the birds sang all day long, 
 in the dark, cool woodland. 
 
 Ross was now completely recovered from the 
 effects of his wound, and ready for the project upon 
 which his heart was set. But he was in a quandary. 
 He could not make up his mind to break his prom- 
 ise to Bradford ; yet he feared the result of making 
 known his intentions. Would not his rifle again be 
 taken from him and himself be confined and 
 guarded as at Wildcat Creek? While he debated 
 the question, the sunshiny days sped swiftly by. 
 
 About the middle of the month, a council of 
 twelve tribes was held at the Miami village. Ring- 
 ing speeches were made by various chiefs. Each 
 tribe sought to lay the blame of the battle of Tippe- 
 canoe and its results upon the other. Much bad 
 feeling existed. Tecumseh made an effort to recon- 
 cile and reunite the tribes of his confederacy, but 
 failed. The council was a fiasco so far as the 
 great chief's desires and intentions were concerned. 
 After indulging in mutual recriminations, and ex- 
 pressing themselves as being desirous of living at 
 peace with the Americans, the members of the 
 council took their departure and the farce was at 
 an end.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 245 
 
 A number of white men were present, as specta- 
 tors, at the council. But Bradford kept a close 
 watch upon his prisoner ; and the latter got no 
 opportunity to communicate with the visitors. 
 Whether they were Americans, or British subjects 
 from across the lakes, Douglas could not ascertain. 
 
 About the first of June, Tecumseh, accompanied 
 by a number of warriors, went to Fort Wayne and 
 demanded ammunition. He was very haughty, and 
 firm in his old opinions and intentions. The agent 
 sought to induce him to remain at peace with the 
 United States, but refused to give him ammunition. 
 
 Tecumseh made answer : 
 
 ' ' My British father will not refuse my request. 
 To him I will go." 
 
 And giving a defiant war-whoop, he disappeared 
 in the adjacent woods. 
 
 He went immediately to Maiden, where he joined 
 the English. 
 
 A short time after Tecumseh 's departure for Can- 
 ada, an Indian runner arrived in the Mississinewa 
 village. He brought the news that what had been 
 expected long, had happened at last that war had 
 been declared between the United States and Great 
 Britain, and that both nations were making prepa- 
 rations for a final struggle for supremacy upon the 
 border. This intelligence greatly pleased Tensk- 
 watawa and his braves. They saw a chance for 
 scalps and plunder and promptly resolved to join 
 the British. The night of the messenger's arrival 
 was spent in feasting and rejoicing. Speeches were
 
 246 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 made, and war-songs were chanted. When morn- 
 ing dawned, numbers of the warriors at once set out 
 for the scenes of expected conflict. 
 
 If Hiram Bradford was elated over the news re- 
 ceived, he succeeded in concealing the fact from 
 Douglas. The latter was depressed and sorrowful. 
 Well he knew what would be the fate of many ex- 
 posed posts and settlements upon the border, as the 
 result of such a war. 
 
 La Violette listened attentively to the impassioned 
 speeches of the chiefs speeches counseling murder 
 and pillage and sighed heavily. Yet when Ross 
 questioned her as to what she thought, she replied 
 firmly : 
 
 "The redmen have been wronged deeply 
 wronged. Their cause is a just one. They seek to 
 recover what is their own ; and they mean to take 
 advantage of this opportunity. They should not be 
 blamed; for in vain have they pleaded for justice. 
 They will join the English, hoping to recover the 
 land of their fathers. If the Seventeen Fires be 
 successful in the struggle, the condition of the red- 
 men will be no worse ; if the English gain the vic- 
 tory, the condition of the redmen will be bettered 
 I hope, though I cannot fully trust the promises of 
 the British. That the Indians will commit excesses 
 is to be expected. No one deplores their mode of 
 warfare more than I. But they are ignorant, su- 
 perstitious, revengeful savages. God made them 
 such." 
 
 " L,a Violette, you talk as though these same ig-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 247 
 
 norant savages were your people, your relatives 
 as though their cause was your own," Ross said 
 sadly. 
 
 Her eyes flashed and her chest heaved, as she said 
 angrily : 
 
 "What is it to you, Ross Douglas, how I talk 
 what I think ? These miserable beings are all the 
 friends I have all I expect to have. You do not 
 care who I am, what I am, or what may become of 
 me ! Why do you concern yourself about what I 
 say or think ? Your only desire is to escape and re- 
 turn to your your home, to forget that you ever 
 saw me ! ' ' 
 
 Bursting into tears, she turned and left him star- 
 ing after her. 
 
 For the next few days Douglas was in a fever of 
 unrest. Now he had an additional incentive to es- 
 cape. His country again needed his services. He 
 could not delay much longer he must make the 
 attempt, though he should court death in so doing. 
 He said to himself : 
 
 " I'll go to Bradford and give him warning of 
 my intentions. I cannot break my word I cannot 
 act a dishonorable part, even to gain my liberty. 
 No doubt he'll disarm me and place me under 
 close surveillance. No matter ; I'll elude the 
 vigilance of his red hounds in some way. Perhaps 
 I can make my way to Fort Wayne. The Indians 
 are inflamed by the declaration of war ; it will not 
 be safe for me to remain here much longer espe- 
 cially, if Bradford should be called away. Why does
 
 248 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 that man hold me captive? Idle question ! I can't 
 answer it. Great heaven ! Almost a year has 
 passed since I left Amy. I'll delay no longer. I'll 
 risk all upon one cast of the die 1 " 
 
 That evening another Indian runner arrived in 
 the village. He came from Maiden, and brought a 
 message from Tecumseh to Tenskwatawa, to enlist 
 all the warriors he could, and send them to Canada 
 at once. The great chief promised that all who 
 would come should be paid for their services and 
 share in the plunder. 
 
 Tenskwatawa at once set about the work. His 
 persuasive* powers were great ; the Indians feared 
 his baleful influence ; and scarcely a brave dared to 
 disobey his orders. Within a surprisingly short 
 time, he had a large number enlisted and ready to 
 set out. Tecumseh had sent word that the women 
 and children of the warriors enlisting should be sent, 
 under escort, beyond the Mississippi ; and that the 
 Prophet should then raise another force to attack 
 Vincennes. The great Shawnee promised to return 
 and lead the attack upon that place. Tenskwatawa 
 carried out his brother's orders to the letter. 
 
 L/a Violette did not accompany the women and 
 children on their long and lonely journey. The 
 Prophet desired that she should do so ; but she ap- 
 pealed to Bradford, with the result that she was 
 permitted to stay with the few Indians remaining at 
 the village most of whom were Miamis that 
 stubbornly refused to cast their lots in with the 
 British.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 249 
 
 All this occurred within a few days after the ar- 
 rival of the runner from Canada. 
 
 This messenger also brought a sealed message 
 from the English commander, to Bradford. Im- 
 mediately upon its receipt, the latter went to Doug- 
 las and said : 
 
 " As you know, I'm in the employ of the British. 
 I've just received instructions to go among the 
 various tribes still remaining neutral, and try to en- 
 list their services in behalf of the English govern- 
 ment. I must start at once. Probably I shall be 
 gone some weeks. You will remain here until I 
 come back. You'll not be lonely. La Violette 
 will be your companion." He smiled a meaning 
 smile. " On my return we three will go to Can- 
 ada. I'm sorry to part from you for so short a 
 time, even; but it can't be helped. I don't mind 
 telling you that if my mission proves successful 
 as it will it means thousands of pounds to me. 
 And you shall share in my good-fortune. You will 
 do as I wish?" 
 
 " I will not," was the positive answer. " Why 
 should I?" 
 
 "Because I desire you to do so," Bradford re- 
 turned coolly. 
 
 " Then I should play the part of a passive traitor, 
 
 simply to please you who have wronged ' ' Ross 
 
 began hotly, but came to an abrupt stop. 
 
 ' ' Well ? ' ' And Bradford smiled broadly. 
 
 " I was going to say," Douglas resumed calmly, 
 1 ' that according to your admissions, I should play
 
 250 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the traitor, to please you who have kept me a pris- 
 oner for months and still have me in your power." 
 
 "You'll not be playing the traitor; you'll re- 
 main neutral that's all. ' ' 
 
 ' ' A passive traitor is as bad as an active one. I 
 cannot consent to your proposal. I've been here 
 too long already, much against my will. I wish to 
 revisit my home for a few days then again offer 
 my services to my country. You say you are my 
 friend. In some ways you have proven your asser- 
 tion. Let me depart in peace." 
 
 ' ' You put my friendship to a severe test, ' ' Brad- 
 ford laughed. 
 
 "You will not grant my request? " 
 
 "No I cannot." 
 
 "Why ? " impatiently. 
 
 ' ' Because to allow you to leave here would upset 
 my plans." 
 
 "Your plans?" 
 
 " Yes ; the plans I have laid for your future." 
 
 "Please explain," Ross said, a sneer curling 
 his lip. 
 
 ' ' I wish I might explain to you tell you every- 
 thing," Bradford answered very earnestly. " But 
 I don't dare to do so at present. I fear it might 
 prove disastrous. Be patient just a little longer. 
 You shall know all ere long. Then you'll bless 
 me for having kept you here. ' ' 
 
 "Never!" Douglas cried angrily. "I'm no 
 child and I'll not stay." 
 
 " You mean to try to escape again ? "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 251 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 For a half minute Bradford dropped his head in 
 thought. Evidently he was greatly moved. At last 
 he said sadly but decidedly his husky voice 
 hardly audible : 
 
 "You're an honorable, upright gentleman, Ross 
 Douglas ; you keep your word, even when the break- 
 ing of it would give you the liberty you covet. I 
 would set you free but no ! You must not you 
 shall not leave the place, until I am ready for you to 
 do so. I'm off now. Good-by." 
 
 Silently the two men shook hands and parted. 
 Both were strangely moved. 
 
 A few minutes later Bradford was saying to a 
 stalwart Shawnee brave one of the few remaining 
 at the Mississinewa village : 
 
 "Long Gun, you are not to join any of the ex- 
 peditions against the Americans. Select a score of 
 your most trusty warriors, and remain here to pro- 
 tect La Violette and guard Fleet Foot. This evening 
 when the young paleface retires to rest, slip into the 
 hut and disarm him. Do not lose sight of him at any 
 time and guard him well each night. Remember 
 that he is fleet of foot, brave, and strong. Under 
 no circumstances is he to be ill-treated or injured. 
 Keep him safe until my return, and you shall have 
 fifty pounds in gold. Here is ten pounds to bind 
 the bargain. Can I depend on you? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " ejaculated the imperturbable Long Gun, 
 as one by one he dropped the jingling coins into 
 his pouch.
 
 252 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Bradford hurried away toward Tenskwatawa's 
 cabin. Arriving there, he found the Prophet alone ; 
 and, striding up to him, said brusquely : 
 
 ' ' I am leaving upon a mission to the neutral 
 tribes. During my absence, La Violette is to re- 
 main here. Do you understand ? " 
 
 Tenskvvatawa nodded stiffly. 
 
 "Heed my words, then," Bradford continued 
 savagely. ' ' If you drag her away from here in 
 my absence and thus defeat my plans I will 
 choke the life out of you, the first time I meet you. 
 Beware !" 
 
 The cowering Prophet looked the impotent rage 
 he felt, but did not open his lips. As he left the 
 cabin Bradford chuckled huskily : 
 
 " I have cowed him. The miserable coward he 
 is afraid to say his life is his own ! ' ' 
 
 Then gravely : 
 
 " But he's cunning treacherous. What a won- 
 derful, uncanny power he exerts over his ignorant 
 people ! I must not be long absent. What a sweet 
 revenge it would be to him, to frustrate my designs. 
 The only thing that will restrain him is his ab- 
 ject cowardice. How he hates me ! And for what ? 
 Because I have made him bow the knee to me the 
 craven ! Because my wishes have run counter to 
 his selfish purpose because I have done as I 
 please concerning the welfare of that dear 
 girl." 
 
 Just outside of the door he met La Violette. 
 
 "I'm going away for a few weeks, La Violette,"
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 253 
 
 he remarked. " In my absence improve your op- 
 portunity to the utmost. ' ' 
 
 ' ' What do you mean ? " she asked softly, dropping 
 her long lashes over her tell-tale eyes. 
 
 " You know what I mean, my little coquette," he 
 laughed lightly. ' ' You have ensnared Ross Doug- 
 las' s heart. Throw a few more cords of love around 
 it, to hold it secure." 
 
 " Snared his heart ! " she cried, petulantly stamp- 
 ing her moccasined foot. " He has no heart it is 
 in another's keeping." 
 
 ' ' Not so, little one, " he answered positively. 
 " He's betrothed 'to another he muttered her name 
 in his delirium but he's learning to love you. 
 Already he loves you better than you know than 
 he suspects. Yours is the name that falls from his 
 lips during sleep. Be patient but persistent. De- 
 vote yourself to his comfort make yourself nec- 
 essary to his very existence. Above all, see to it 
 that he doesn't escape during my absence. 
 Good-by." 
 
 Ere she could make reply, Bradford had turned 
 the corner of the cabin and disappeared. A half 
 hour later he had set out upon his journey, accom- 
 panied by a half score of picked warriors.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE night of Bradford's departure was quite 
 warm for the time of year. Ross Douglas 
 sat in front of the cabin he had occupied since 
 coming to the village. The balmy air was laden 
 with the scent of wild flowers sweet with the 
 breath of the damp woodland. I^a Violette timidly 
 stole to his side and whispered : 
 
 ' ' You are lonely. May I talk to you ? " 
 
 "Certainly I'm always glad to have your 
 company," he replied, sincerity in his voice and 
 manner. 
 
 In low tones they conversed for some time, aim- 
 lessly rambling from one subject to another. Each 
 put forth an effort to entertain the other ; but in 
 spite of their endeavors the conversation flagged. 
 Silence fell upon them. The stars peeped out ; the 
 moon rose above the tree-tops. At last the girl 
 sprang from her seat, and with a soft "good- 
 night ' ' slipped away among the shadows. 
 
 Douglas promptly got upon his feet, and calling 
 to Duke who lay dozing near the door entered 
 the hut. The place was in absolute darkness. 
 Without removing any of his apparel, the young 
 man threw himself upon his couch, murmuring : 
 
 "At last the opportunity has come; and I'm 
 ready to take advantage of it. I'll snatch a few 
 (254)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 255 
 
 hours of sleep. Then when the camp is wrapped 
 in slumber, I'll steal into the black forest, and 
 leave this hated place far behind me. No guards 
 have been placed over me. I can hardly under- 
 stand it. But I ought not to complain, if fortune 
 sees fit to favor me for once. Ah, Amy! God 
 favoring, I shall soon meet you and clasp you to 
 my heart !" 
 
 A short time he lay, open-eyed and thoughtful. 
 Then sighing deeply, he whispered : 
 
 " But I hate to part from La Violette. She's a 
 sweet, lovable, trusting child. I have learned to 
 like her very much. And poor little girl ! she 
 likes me only too well, I fear. But I'm in nowise 
 to blame. I haven't sought to win her heart. I 
 have tried to hold her at arm's length. But, sim- 
 ple child of nature that she is, she can't disguise 
 her feelings. I pity her. I hate to leave her here 
 to such a fate. But I can't take her with me 
 it's out of the question. How lonely she will be! 
 May God keep and comfort my little wild violet, 
 when I am gone ! ' ' 
 
 With this fervent utterance, he resolutely closed 
 his eyes and fell asleep. 
 
 An hour passed. Ross was awakened by the 
 voice of the bloodhound. The animal stood by his 
 master's bedside, growling fiercely. His bristles 
 were erect ; his eyes, fixed upon the open door, 
 through which the mellow moonlight was streaming. 
 Douglas raised himself upon his elbow and looked 
 toward the opening in the wall. A dusky form for
 
 256 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 one brief moment darkened the doorway. Then, 
 outlined in the bright moonlight, a stalwart Indian 
 stepped into the room. Instantly Ross was upon 
 his feet. 
 
 "What do you want here?" he demanded an- 
 grily, in the Shawnee tongue. 
 
 The brave made no reply ; but, gliding forward, 
 secured Douglas's gun that stood in the corner of 
 the room near the bed. Then he nimbly leaped 
 through the doorway and was gone. 
 
 Beside himself with rage and disappointment, the 
 young man shouted : 
 
 "Take him, Duke!" 
 
 Impatiently the bloodhound had been awaiting 
 the word of command. With a bound he cleared 
 the doorway. Another leap, and he fell upon the 
 retreating savage, like an avalanche. The warrior 
 dropped the rifle and drew his knife to defend him- 
 self, uttering a blood-curdling yell as he did so. 
 
 Ross hastened to the dog's assistance. Dark 
 forms slipped from the shadow of the building, and 
 silently surrounded the combatants. The hound 
 seized the hand that held the glittering knife, and 
 gave it a wrench that caused the weapon to fall to 
 the ground. Douglas caught up his rifle, and 
 watched for a chance to deal the savage a stunning 
 blow. But, at the favorable moment, a number of 
 warriors threw themselves upon him and bore him 
 to the earth. Realizing that further resistance 
 would be suicidal, he ceased to struggle and called 
 off the bloodhound.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 257 
 
 A few minutes afterward, he again lay upon his 
 couch of furs in the cabin, bound hand and foot ; while 
 Duke, stretched full length upon the floor, lolled 
 his red tongue and whined dolefully. Just within 
 the door stood a guard silent and motionless as a 
 bronze statue. 
 
 The news of the attempted escape and consequent 
 struggle quickly spread throughout the village, and 
 occasioned no little excitement. Duke had seriously 
 injured the Indian he had attacked ; and the war- 
 rior's comrades and friends threatened dire venge- 
 ance upon the dog and his master. Long Gun sought 
 to pacify the angry braves but failed. They 
 openly rebelled against the chief's authority, and 
 swore they would kill the hound and his owner. In 
 his extremity Long Gun went to La Violette and 
 laid the case before her. 
 
 She answered him : 
 
 " Have no fear. Your prisoner shall not be 
 harmed. Select those who will obey you, and 
 closely guard him to-night. To-morrow I will inter- 
 fere in his behalf. ' ' 
 
 Well pleased, Long Gun returned to his post of 
 duty and carried out La Violette's instructions. 
 But had tie known what was her real intention, he 
 would not have felt so complacent. 
 
 When the Shawne* chief had left her presence, 
 La Violette threw herself upon her couch and 
 sobbed bitterly: 
 
 ' ' Yes, I must save him save him by giving 
 him his liberty, by parting from him forever! Oh,
 
 258 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 it is hard cruel ! For I love him I love him ! 
 But he must not die and die he will, if he re- 
 mains here longer. The warriors are determined 
 to take his life ; they cannot be restrained. He 
 must leave to-morrow night, at the latest. Oh, 
 Ross Ross 1 My love my love ! You will 
 never know how I worship you never ! ' ' 
 
 All night long, the village was in a buzz of ex- 
 citement. Ross Douglas lay upon his bed, a prey 
 to despairing thoughts and gloomy forebodings. 
 With wide-open eyes, he peered into the darkness 
 that surrounded him ; with alert ears, he listened to 
 every sound. The hum of many voices came to 
 him at intervals. Occasionally, the soft breeze that 
 swept through the door brought a threat or an ob- 
 jurgation. He realized the great mistake he had 
 made. 
 
 " All is over I am lost ! " he muttered chok- 
 ingly, a black wave of despair engulfing his soul. 
 " I may as well resign myself to my fate. Ill-luck 
 has followed me persistently. Joe and Bright 
 Wing are dead, or helpless captives like myself ; 
 Bradford is absent. I've not a friend in the 
 place except I/a Violette. And what can she do ? 
 Nothing ! What would she do, if she could ? I 
 don't know. She wouldn't give me my liberty, I'm 
 sure. And I would as lief die as remain longer 
 a prisoner ! She loves me ? Yes. But she will 
 not aid me to escape of course not. She would 
 rather see me die before her eyes, than resign me to 
 another. What a fool I was to try to recover my
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 259 
 
 gun ! But I was crazy with disappointment. Ah ! 
 Duke, old fellow, you seem to realize the gravity 
 of the situation. Three times we have contended 
 against these red demons. They'll not spare us 
 this time. Well, at least I can die like a man ; you 
 can die like a hero. I wouldn't care so much 
 though life is sweet were it not for Amy and La 
 Violette. Yes, L,a Violette ! I pity her ; I 
 
 Slowly, endlessly, the night dragged itself away. 
 The morning dawned warm and clear. At sunrise 
 La Violette made her way to the cabin in which the 
 prisoner was confined. The guard at the door did 
 not oppose her entrance ; but he maintained his 
 position just within the door. 
 
 Douglas looked up as the girl's light footsteps 
 fell upon his ear. He saw that she was pale and 
 haggard, that her eyelids were swollen with weeping. 
 
 " You heard of my ill- fortune and came to me," 
 he remarked simply. 
 
 "Yes, "she replied in a tone scarcely audible. 
 " Do you not want something to eat? " 
 
 " I want nothing." 
 
 " Nothing ? " And she eyed him sharply. 
 
 " Nothing but my liberty." 
 
 "It is impossible for me to give you that," she 
 answered hastily, giving him a look that he could 
 not interpret. "But you must eat something. 
 You will need all your strength for the ordeal." 
 
 " What do you mean? " he inquired in an un- 
 moved voice*
 
 260 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Unheeding his question, she turned and left the 
 hut. She was gone but a few minutes. When she 
 returned, she bore a quantity of corn bread and meat. 
 
 "You must eat this all of it," she said de- 
 cidedly. " Here, Duke here is your share." 
 
 After she had unbound his hands, Ross sat up and 
 silently devoured the food to the last crumb. 
 
 " I thought you were hungry," she said as she 
 took the platter from his hands. "Do you want 
 anything more ? " 
 
 " I'd like some water." 
 
 She brought it to him. 
 
 "That's all," he said, as he returned her the 
 cup. " I thank you for your kindness." 
 
 "And you would like to have your liberty?" 
 she queried in a half-mocking tone. 
 
 " Of course," he answered gravely. 
 
 " To join in a war against my people ? " 
 
 " Against England," he corrected. 
 
 " My people are allies of the English." 
 
 " Still you can't blame me for wishing to fight 
 for my country." 
 
 " And you cannot blame me for refusing to lib- 
 erate you." 
 
 He remained silent. Again she gave him that 
 meaning glance ; but he could not fathom it. At 
 that moment, the sound of voices in angry alter- 
 cation came to their ears. 
 
 ' ' Secure his hands ! " I/a Violette cried to the 
 guard, as she sprang past him and planted her 
 slender form in the doorway.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 261 
 
 The sight that met her gaze was one calculated 
 to unnerve the bravest man. Fifty armed warriors 
 had overpowered 1/ong Gun and his faithful few, 
 and were rushing toward the spot where she stood. 
 
 Only too well she knew what it meant. The in- 
 furiated mob were bent upon murdering Ross 
 Douglas. 
 
 On they came, brandishing their weapons and 
 yelling like demons. Their painted faces were con- 
 torted with rage ; their eyes gleamed with the fire 
 of their hellish purpose. 
 
 The hot blood forsook La Violette's face, and 
 surged in a sickening flood to her heart and brain. 
 Her vision grew misty ; her limbs trembled. But 
 she set her white teeth and firmly stood her ground. 
 
 The leaders of the mob reached the hut. With 
 angry exclamations, they came to a sudden halt, as 
 they beheld the daughter of the Prophet barring 
 the entrance. 
 
 " La Violette must stand aside!" shouted a burly 
 warrior. ' ' We want the young paleface. We 
 mean to kill him to tear him limb from limb ! " 
 
 The girl neither spoke nor moved ; but she 
 sternly fastened her eyes upon the speaker and 
 he recoiled a step. 
 
 " Out of the way ! Out of the way ! " bellowed 
 the mob. 
 
 ' ' Never ! ' ' she answered in clear, ringing tones. 
 
 They surged forward, threatening to crush her 
 under foot. She did not flinch, but raising her 
 voice to the highest pitch, cried imperiously : 
 
 " Hold ! I La Violette command you ! "
 
 262 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 They wavered faltered paused. 
 
 Taking advantage of their temporary indecision, 
 she continued breathlessly : 
 
 ' ' You shall not kill this helpless prisoner ! I 
 the daughter of the Prophet command you to 
 disperse. You shall not harm the paleface, unless 
 you first kill me ! Do you dare to kill Tenskwat- 
 awa's daughter the gift of the Great Spirit? 
 Make but a move to touch me, and the Great Spirit 
 will strike you dead in your tracks ! ' ' 
 
 Her eyes were blazing ; her breast heaving. To 
 the superstitious warriors who faced her, she was 
 the living, breathing embodiment of supernatural 
 power. Awed into silence, they forgot their pur- 
 pose and began to draw away from her dread pres- 
 ence. 
 
 "Go and quickly !" she commanded sternly. 
 "Ere I lose my patience and call down upon you 
 the curse of the Great Spirit ! " 
 
 They waited to hear no more ; but silently, sul- 
 lenly shrunk away and disappeared among the 
 neighboring huts. 
 
 ' ' Saved saved for the present ! " I,a Violette 
 panted, as she staggered into the cabin and sank in 
 a quivering heap upon the floor. 
 
 " L,a Violette," Ross called gently. 
 
 In answer, she burst into ,tears and sobbed softly. 
 After a time she regained control of her feelings, 
 and, arising, went to his side. 
 
 "You have saved my life, at the risk of your 
 own," he said with feeling. 
 
 "I have repaid the debt I owed you," she an-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 263 
 
 swered very quietly. ' ' You will be safe for a time, 
 at least. I must leave you now." 
 
 And ere he could make reply, she had withdrawn 
 from the hut. 
 
 Just outside she met Long Gun. The chief's 
 face wore a crestfallen and worried expression. 
 
 Addressing him in the Shawnee language, she 
 commanded : 
 
 ' ' 1/ong Gun will take his men and occupy the 
 cabin. If the mob return to take the paleface's 
 life, Long Gun and his warriors will defend him to 
 the last." 
 
 "Ugh!" replied the Shawnee, with animation 
 unusual to him. 
 
 She continued : 
 
 ' ' Long Gun will not hesitate to shoot down any 
 that seek to harm the prisoner or his dog. La 
 Violette has spoken Long Gun will obey." 
 
 ' ' Long Gun's ears are open ; he hears and under- 
 stands," was the grim reply. 
 
 La Violette passed on to the Prophet's quarters. 
 The latter was preparing to journey to Fort Wayne, 
 with a hundred warriors, to demand ammunition 
 of the American commandant of the post. 
 
 " Father," the girl said, as she stood in his pres- 
 ence. 
 
 "What does my daughter wish?" he asked 
 kindly. 
 
 " You are preparing to leave the village? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "To-day?"
 
 264 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " You must not go." 
 
 He stared at her in open-mouthed surprise. She 
 hastily explained : 
 
 " An attack has just been made upon Fleet Foot's 
 life. I overawed the mad warriors ; for the present he 
 is safe. But the attempt will be renewed. I may 
 need your help. You must not leave the village 
 to-day or to-night." 
 
 " Why does my daughter try to save the pale- 
 face's life ? " he demanded angrily. 
 
 ' ' Because Fleet Foot saved the life of L,a Vio- 
 lette," she answered promptly. 
 
 " Ugh ! " he ejaculated and was silent. 
 
 "You will do as I desire? "she inquired anx- 
 iously. 
 
 He nodded sullenly. 
 
 " Listen, then," she went on rapidly. "Fleet 
 Foot must be protected to-day ; to-night he must 
 leave the village." 
 
 "But Scar Face " Tenskwatawa began, a 
 
 look of terror creeping over his repellant features. 
 
 " I know what my father would say," she inter- 
 rupted. "But I will assume all responsibility. 
 Fleet Foot shall not remain here to be killed. You 
 have nothing to fear from Scar Face. I will shield 
 you from his wrath." 
 
 The Prophet hung his head and made no reply ; 
 and the girl left the cabin. As she passed through 
 the doorway and dropped the curtain of skins be- 
 hind her, the cowardly wretch muttered shiveringly :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 265 
 
 " Scar Face will be very angry. But La Violette 
 will have her way I am helpless. ' ' 
 
 Then hiding his face in the folds of his blanket, 
 he groaned aloud. 
 
 The day passed quietly. Evening came and 
 the shades of night began to gather. As soon as 
 it was quite dark, La Violette went to Long Gun 
 and, drawing him aside, said : 
 
 ' ' The enemies of Fleet Foot are gathering in 
 front of the council-lodge. Soon they will make 
 another attempt to kill him. When they come, he 
 must not be here. La Violette will take him to her 
 lodge will hide him where they dare not enter, 
 where they cannot find him. As soon as Long Gun 
 hears the mob coming, he and his braves will slip 
 away in the darkness. Does Long Gun under- 
 stand?" 
 
 Greatly relieved for he had been apprehensive 
 of the result of the attack that was sure to come 
 Long Gun replied : 
 
 "La Violette is wise and good. Long Gun will 
 do her bidding." 
 
 "It is well," she answered simply, and entered 
 the cabin. 
 
 Douglas lay upon his couch, dreading what the 
 night might have in store for him. His guards had 
 given him food and drink, at noon and early in the 
 evening. Duke sat beside the bed, lovingly licking 
 his master's manacled hands and whining softly. 
 Ross first became aware of La Violette's presence,
 
 266 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 when she bent over him, severed his bonds, and 
 whispered in his ear : 
 
 ' ' Come with me and do not speak or make a 
 noise. ' ' 
 
 Without a murmur he arose and meekly accom- 
 panied her from the cabin. Duke silently followed. 
 La Violette's hut was but a few rods from the one 
 Douglas had occupied ; but she took a circuitous 
 route, to avoid observation, and approached the 
 building from the rear. 
 
 On reaching its interior which was in absolute 
 darkness she said in an agitated undertone : 
 
 "Remain here until I return. I will be gone but 
 a few minutes." 
 
 Left alone, Ross threw himself upon the floor, and 
 rubbed and kneaded his stiffened and swollen limbs. 
 He wondered what La Violette's intentions were. 
 While he was still ransacking his brain for an 
 answer, the young woman returned. 
 
 " Fleet Foot," she called softly, musically, as she 
 stepped within the room and let fall the curtain of 
 skins. 
 
 " Here," he replied, as he arose to his feet. 
 
 Guided by his voice, she found her way to his 
 side, and murmured : 
 
 "Here is gun, knife, and ammunition. In the 
 pouch you will find food." 
 
 With the words, she placed the things in his out- 
 stretched hands. Now he understood her inten- 
 tions. But he said nothing his heart was too full.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 267 
 
 " Have you flint and steel?" she inquired. 
 
 " Yes," he managed to articulate. 
 
 ' ' But one thing more then you must be off. 
 Hold out your right hand." 
 
 He did so ; and felt her placing something upon 
 his finger. 
 
 ' ' What are you doing ? " he asked in a whisper. 
 
 " Giving you a ring." 
 
 " A ring? " in surprise. 
 
 ' ' Yes ; Tenskwatawa's talisman the Sign of the 
 Prophet." 
 
 ' ' Why do you do that ? " he inquired in wonder 
 and amazement. 
 
 ' ' You may be pursued and recaptured or may 
 fall into the hands of some roving band of redmen. 
 In either case, the talisman will save your life. 
 Boldly show it and say that Tenskwatawa gave it to 
 you that you are under his protection, that you 
 have his magic power. The warriors whoever 
 they may be will not ask you to prove your asser- 
 tions. They have been led to believe that the 
 power lies in the ring. And they heard the Prophet 
 say at Wildcat Creek, that he would not again give 
 the trinket into the hands of one who could not use 
 it. It will protect you, Fleet Foot." 
 
 " But how did you obtain it ? " he asked in an ag- 
 itated undertone. 
 
 She answered naively : 
 
 ' ' I went to Tenskwatawa's lodge, to get the gun 
 and ammunition I have given you. He was sleep- 
 ing. I slipped the ring from his finger and came 
 away."
 
 268 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " But in so doing haven't you shorn him of his 
 power ? ' ' 
 
 " No. There is no virtue in the talisman, except 
 in the Prophet's hands. He is cunning. He will 
 tell a miraculous story of its loss and straightway 
 procure another. I have robbed him of nothing but 
 the bauble itself. But you are tarrying too long 
 you must go at once. Crane Bill, my aged attend- 
 ant, may return at any time. She hates all pale- 
 faces ; she would raise an alarm. Hark ! " 
 
 Both listened intently, holding their breaths in 
 their excitement. Fierce yells came to their ears 
 yells of fiendish rage and disappointment. Both 
 knew what the uproar meant ; Douglas's enemies 
 had discovered his escape. 
 
 Grasping her companion's arm with both her 
 trembling hands, La Violette cried breathlessly : 
 
 " Go go at once ! They are searching for you. 
 Soon they will be here. The cabin will be sur- 
 rounded and your escape cut off. For my sake 
 go!" 
 
 Slipping his arm around her supple waist, he 
 panted in reply : 
 
 " Come with me ! This is no place for you. You 
 are not safe here they'll wreak their revenge 
 upon you '' 
 
 ' ' No no ! " she answered brokenly. " It is im- 
 possible. You could not escape with me. I am 
 safe here they will not dare to harm me. Bid me 
 good-by and go go!" 
 
 "Come with me, I,a Violette!" he insisted 
 tenderest pity, inteusest love in his voice. "To-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 269 
 
 gather we will return to the blessings of civilization. 
 I'll be your protector your brother " 
 
 " No ! " she interrupted sadly, but firmly a sob 
 in her throat. " It cannot be. To-day I have been 
 instrumental in saving you I may be able to save 
 others. At least, I can risk my life in trying. I 
 cannot go with you, Ross. Good-by good-by for- 
 ever ! " 
 
 " Kiss me ! " he whispered in her ear. 
 
 She lifted her face to his. In the darkness their 
 lips met. Each felt the tumultuous beating of the 
 other's heart. For a half minute he strained her to 
 his breast, ere he released her and softly murmured: 
 
 " Good-by, I^a Violette and God bless you ! " 
 
 Then he and his dog were gone and she was 
 alone. She dropped upon the bare floor and hid her 
 face. But she did not weep. Her grief over her 
 loss, her anxiety for his safety, were too great. A 
 blood-curdling whoop and the patter of moccasined 
 feet, from time to time, came to her ears ; but no one 
 entered the cabin. A prey to suspense, she arose at 
 last and went out of doors. Douglas's enemies 
 were continuing their search. She dimly discerned 
 their dark forms flitting here and there. Aimlessly 
 she sauntered toward the Prophet's hut. Just as 
 she reached it, a number of warriors were entering 
 the door. She followed them; and heard the leader 
 say to Tenskwatawa, who stood at one end of the 
 room, directly under a flaring torch stuck into the 
 wall: 
 
 " Fleet Foot has escaped. He is in hiding about
 
 270 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the village. Does Tenskwatawa know aught of 
 him?" 
 
 The Prophet expanded his chest, and, raising his 
 right hand, said severely : 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa is the father of his red children. 
 He does not befriend the palefaces. Begone ! ' ' 
 
 At that moment, the speaker chanced to glance at 
 his own hand. He saw that his ring was gone. An 
 expression of unspeakable surprise overspread his 
 horrid features. With the whimpering cry of a 
 whipped child, he dropped upon his knees and be- 
 gan to search for the talisman. Not finding it, he 
 silently arose to his feet, an expression of absolute 
 imbecility upon his face. Then appearing to realize 
 the magnitude of the misfortune that had befallen 
 him, he dropped to the floor in a writhing heap, 
 moaning and beating his chest. 
 
 "Ugh!" ejaculated the leader of the band. 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa has lost his sign his power. See ! 
 He is weak he whines like a sick squaw ! 
 Ugh ! " 
 
 And with a parting volley of contemptuous ex- 
 clamations, the braves hastily left the room. 
 
 La Violette leaned against the wall and calmly 
 looked upon the whining, moaning wretch at her 
 feet. Now she fully realized what she had done ; 
 but she had no regret. She had done it for the sake 
 of the man she loved ! 
 
 The Prophet was indeed shorn of his power. 
 From that day forth, his influence over his people 
 rapidly decliuedi
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IT WAS the close of a hot July day. The surface of 
 the placid Scioto glinted in the red rays of the 
 setting sun. The dark-green forests surround- 
 ing the little village of Franklinton grew darker, 
 as the tremulous twilight faded into dewy dusk. 
 Blue smoke curled gracefully from the mud-daubed 
 chimneys of the villagers' cabins. A tinkling cow- 
 bell broke the stillness a twinkling star peeped 
 from the dusky vault above. Swallows skimmed 
 low along the shores of the gently-flowing river. In- 
 sect voices joined in a monotonous threnody, 
 lights began to gleam from cottage windows and 
 doors. 
 
 Upon the western bank of the stream a few 
 miles below the village stood a solitary pedes- 
 trian, leaning against a rough-barked elm and look- 
 ing toward the opposite shore. He carried a 
 long rifle ; and at his side hung ammunition-pouch 
 and powder-horn. His buckskin suit gave evidence 
 of hard usage, being soiled, frayed, and ragged. 
 The soft hat that surmounted his dark curls was 
 battered and torn. His moccasins were ready to 
 drop piecemeal from his feet. 
 
 Stooping and patting the head of a large blood- 
 hound that sat panting beside him, the man sighed 
 wearily and began : 
 
 (271)
 
 272 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "Well, Duke old fellow, we're here at last. 
 We've had a lonely and hazardous journey. But 
 we're here free, alive, and well." 
 
 The hound yawned and wagged his tail, as though 
 he understood the words. 
 
 Ross Douglas continued : 
 
 "Yes, my faithful friend, together we have 
 braved the numerous perils of the trackless forest. 
 But we're free free at last ! True, you are foot- 
 sore and weary ; so am I. And both of us are 
 hungry. But our journey's over. Soon we'll 
 eat and sleep sleep as we haven't slept in days." 
 
 The dog whined plaintively. Then he stiffly 
 arose and looked beseechingly into his master's face. 
 
 "You're telling me it's time to be moving," 
 Douglas remarked, a smile lighting his handsome 
 features. "You're a knowing animal, Duke." 
 
 Then to himself : 
 
 " I must find some way to cross the river I 
 must see Amy to-night. But I don't want anyone 
 to know of my return, until I know how affairs have 
 gone in my absence. Therefore, I can't go to the 
 village for a canoe. But I know where one of the 
 settlers used to keep one hidden in the bushes." 
 
 Shouldering his rifle, he set out along the bank, 
 Duke following him. He was not long in finding 
 the canoe and launching it. 
 
 "Jump in and lie down, Duke," he commanded. 
 
 The intelligent brute obeyed. Ross seized the 
 light paddle and pushed off. A few rapid and vig- 
 orous strokes carried the boat to the opposite side
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 273 
 
 of the stream. Man and dog leaped ashore. Doug- 
 las beached the dugout, and set off along the path 
 leading to the Larkin homestead the path he 
 knew so well. 
 
 By this time it was quite dark. The warm air 
 was sweet with woodsy odors. Fireflies were flitting 
 here and there among the trees. No sound broke 
 the stillness but his own footfalls. As he hurried 
 forward, his heart palpitating wildly, he murmured 
 under his breath : 
 
 "At last at last, Amy ! Soon I shall press you 
 to my breast, and kiss away your tears. Perhaps I 
 shall stand before you as one from the grave but 
 you will be glad to see me will understand all in- 
 stantly. With the devotion of a lifetime, I'll re- 
 pay you for whatever you may have endured in my 
 absence. And I've been true to you, my darling ! 
 I could have loved L,a Violette, had I not loved you. 
 When I leave you again, I'll leave you my wife. 
 Then temptation will not dare to assail me. I'll 
 brook no opposition now no delay. You shall be 
 mine mine at once. Ah, the old love wells ttp in 
 my heart ! " 
 
 Then, sighing, he shook his head and whispered 
 very softly : 
 
 ' ' But poor little I/a Violette dear, sweet, little 
 wild violet ! How my heart bleeds for her ! But I 
 mustn't think of her now. No no ! I must have 
 but one thought in my mind Amy ! ' ' 
 
 He had reached the farthe_r margin of the strip of 
 woodland that skirted the river. The clearing was 
 18
 
 274 T&E SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 before him. The stars were shining brightly. By 
 their faint radiance, he dimly discerned the house 
 standing in the middle of the cleared space. But no 
 welcoming light streamed from window or door. 
 All was darkness silence. His heart almost stood 
 still ; a sense of suffocation came over him. A 
 thousand mad thoughts and fancies ran riot in his 
 brain. He leaned heavily upon his rifle and shiv- 
 ered though the evening air was warm. 
 
 The red rim of the moon rose above the tree-tops 
 beyond the clearing. Then, big and round, it 
 floated upward and shed its gentle light upon the 
 scene. 
 
 But still Ross did not stir. He stood with his 
 eyes riveted upon the cabin now clearly outlined 
 in the moonlight. To his sensitive ears, came the 
 faint, faraway echo of laughter from the village 
 above. It seemed to mock him, like the eerie voice 
 of a departed spirit. Of a sudden, Duke tilted his 
 nose aloft and howled mournfully. The sound 
 startled Douglas and recalled him from his reverie. 
 He glanced apprehensively into the surrounding 
 shadows, as if expecting to see a ghost. A sense 
 of utter loneliness such as he had never known took 
 possession of him. The hound crept to his side and 
 whimpered ; and, in the woods beyond, a screech 
 owl thrice repeated its petulant, mournful cry. 
 
 Impatiently shaking himself, Ross muttered 
 angrily : 
 
 ' ' Bah ! I'm a nervous fool. I'll know the 
 worst and at once. ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 275 
 
 Resolutely he strode toward the cabin door, a few 
 rods away. On reaching it, he did not hesitate, but 
 thundered loudly upon it, with his bare knuckles. 
 The only answer he received was the hollow echo 
 of his raps. He felt for the latchstring ; and, find- 
 ing it, gave it a vigorous pull. The door swung 
 inward so suddenly that he recoiled a step, "expect- 
 ing some person to face him. But no one put in an 
 appearance. The interior was in absolute dark- 
 ness. A musty, disagreeable smell the odor of a 
 room long closed to air and sunlight greeted his 
 nostrils. Boldly he stepped over the sill and stood 
 upon the puncheon floor. It creaked to his tread ; 
 his heavy footfalls rang out with startling distinct- 
 ness. The house was empty deserted ! 
 
 Ivike a lost soul pursued by a legion of demons, 
 Ross Douglas fled from the cabin, leaving the door 
 ajar. With bowed head and drawn features, he 
 sped into the forest back of the house, and hurried 
 on and on, taking no heed of his course. The 
 hound wonderingly followed him. Ross had for- 
 gotten his hunger, his fatigue everything but the 
 fact that Amy was gone. Wild fancies beset his 
 brain. Mocking voices gibbered in his ears ; evil 
 faces peeped at him from the surrounding gloom. 
 At last, from sheer exhaustion, he dropped upon 
 the earth and pillowed his aching head upon his 
 folded arms. Duke crouched at his master's side 
 and anxiously observed his every movement. 
 
 ' ' Gone gone ! ' ' the young man moaned in 
 agony of spirit ' ' And whether true or false I
 
 276 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 don't know. Gone What can it mean? Amy ! 
 Amy ! Night after night during my dreary cap- 
 tivity, I dreamed of you. And now you're not 
 here. But I'm wronging you, dear girl of 
 course I am. You've been forced to leave you 
 wouldn't have gone otherwise. Then I have lost 
 you forever ! God help me to bear my bitter dis- 
 appointment ! " 
 
 Far into the night, he lay moaning striving to 
 reconcile himself to the inevitable, to regain control 
 of himself. Worn out at last, he fell into a deep 
 sleep the sleep of mental and physical exhaustion. 
 
 At daylight he awoke, and stiffly arose to his feet. 
 His face was pale and haggard; his lips were set and 
 determined. Shouldering his rifle and calling to his 
 dog, he retraced his steps toward the riven Again 
 he reached the clearing surrounding the deserted 
 cabin. In the gray light of the morning, the scene 
 was more barren, more oppressive, than when soft- 
 ened by the shades of night. He shuddered and 
 involuntarily turned his head, as he passed the 
 desolate habitation. With quick, firm steps, he 
 hurried along the path leading down to the shore. 
 A half hour later, he had recrossed the stream and 
 was approaching the village. 
 
 The stui was just rising. He saw the blue smoke 
 ascending heavenward and heard the prattle of 
 children. Emerging from the forest, he stood for a 
 moment drinking in the beauties of the homely, 
 animated scene. Oddly-garbed figures, bearing 
 axes, hoes, and other implements of husbandry*
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 277 
 
 were hurrying toward the woods and fields; buxom 
 matrons and comely maids were bustling hither and 
 thither. Another day had dawned; and the indus- 
 trious hive was astir. 
 
 A tall, robust settler approached the border of the 
 woodland, where Ross was standing. The young 
 man stepped from the shadowof the overhanging 
 boughs and he and the villager were face to face. 
 With a glad cry of recognition, the latter sprang for- 
 ward, exclaiming : 
 
 " Ross Douglas, as I'm alive ! Give us y'r hand, 
 my lad ! " 
 
 The two warmly clasped hands, and Ross replied : 
 
 "Yes, Amos Pritchard, it's I Ross Douglas. 
 Are you glad to see me ? ' ' 
 
 "Glad to see you?" yelled the other, dancing 
 around in delight. ' ' What a question 1 Of course 
 I'm glad to see you. Everybody II be glad to see 
 you. But where in the* world have you been so 
 long what 'ave you been doin' with y'rself ? We'd 
 all give you up fer dead. We knowed you went to 
 fight with Gener'l Harrison; an' as you didn't 
 come back an' we didn't hear uothin' of you, we 
 c'ncluded you was dead. You was at the battle o' 
 Tippecanoe? " 
 
 " Yes," Douglas answered briefly. 
 
 " Well, where've you been sence? " 
 
 " A prisoner among the Indfens." 
 
 Pritchard opened his eyes very wide and ejacu- 
 lated : 
 
 " You don't say ! "
 
 278 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Ross nodded and smiled a wan, sad smile. 
 
 1 ' Ever sence the battle, last November ? ' ' the 
 man inquired. 
 
 Again Douglas nodded. 
 
 "An' where's y'r comrades, Joe Farley an' that 
 young Wyandot?" 
 
 "Haven't they returned ?" Ross asked quickly. 
 
 " Not a bit of it. We hain't seen n'r heard noth- 
 in' of any of you, till this minute." 
 
 "Then I fear they're dead, or prisoners among 
 the Winnebagoes. " 
 
 And Douglas gave his companion a brief account 
 of the battle and subsequent events. However, he 
 said nothing of his own wonderful experience while 
 a prisoner, made no mention of Bradford or of L,a Vio- 
 lette. When he had finished his short recital, he 
 asked in as careless a tone as he could assume : 
 
 ' ' How have things gone in my absence, Pritch- 
 ard?" 
 
 "Much better 'n they have with you," was the 
 rejoinder, " judgin' from y'r looks. You're ragged 
 and hungry-lookin' an' that surly bloodhound o' 
 yours looks all fagged out, too. I take it you've 
 had a purty rough-an' -tumble time of it. Cani- 
 paignin' 'g'inst Injins ain't no holiday, I guess. 
 You'd better go right down to my shack, an' git 
 somethin' to eat ; an' then take a sleep fer a week 
 'r so. Go on you know where I live. The ol' 
 woman '11 fill you up on the fat o' the land. She 
 alluz did have a soft place in her heart, fer )^ou an' 
 y'r dog.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 279 
 
 ' ' But you haven't told me the news of the set- 
 tlement," Ross objected. 
 
 ' ' The news '11 keep, ' ' Pritchard returned. ' ' Any- 
 how, ther' ain't much to tell. Some new settlers 
 has come in; an' some o' the old ones has left. Ol' 
 Sam I,arkin was the biggest s'rprise to us." Ross 
 pricked up his ears. " He sold out an' left le's 
 see. It was in October after you left in August. 
 Took everybody by s'rprise that's a fact. He 
 had one o' the best an' biggest pieces o' land 'long 
 the valley as you know an' plenty o' money; 
 but somehow he wasn't satisfied. Some folks says 
 his title to the land wasn't clear. I don't know. 
 Anyhow he jest sold off everything fer what it 
 would bring, an' skipped out. Some feller from 
 down 'bout the Ohio bought the land but he 
 hain't moved onto it yit. Well, I must be moseyin' 
 to work. You go on down to the cabin." 
 
 " Where did he go ? " Douglas inquired, moisten- 
 ing his lips with his tongue. 
 
 " I don't know," Pritchard answered as he 
 changed his axe from one shoulder to the other. 
 " Some says he went back to his ol' home in western 
 Pennsylvany. Nobody 'pears to know. But wher- 
 ever he went, that sneakin' Canadian, George 
 Milliard, went along." 
 
 ' ' And and his daughter, Amy ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Of course. But what 're you so concerned 
 ' bout 'em fer, Ross Douglas ? Oh ! I see. ' ' And 
 the settler smiled knowingly. "I remember now 
 you was sprucin' up to that little gal o' ol' Sam's.
 
 280 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Well, I'm 'feared you've lost her, my boy. Hilliard 
 was keepin' the trail hot the same time you was, 
 an' you leavin' when you did give him the short 
 cut 'cross the clearin'. I 'spect he's married her 
 long 'fore this. The fact is, some folks says the 
 couple was married on the sly, 'fore they left these 
 parts. Of course, / don't know. But I must be 
 gittin' to work, 'r I won't earn my dinner. I'll see 
 you at noon. You're goin' to stay 'round fer a few 
 weeks, anyhow, ain't you ? " 
 
 " I don'*t know yet," Douglas truthfully replied. 
 
 The young man walked toward the collection of 
 cabins not far away, leaving his companion staring 
 after him. 
 
 " If I ain't bad fooled," Pritchard muttered as he 
 entered the woods, ' ' that young feller is purty 
 much in love with ol' Sam Larkin's gal; an' her 
 goin' off the way she did is worryin' him like all 
 possessed. ' ' 
 
 For several days Douglas lingered about the vil- 
 lage. He visited the Wyandot camp up the river; 
 but found it abandoned. His red friends had left 
 for parts unknown. Undoubtedly some of them had 
 cast in their lots with Tecumseh, and were aiding 
 in harassing the posts and settlements upon the ex- 
 treme frontier. 
 
 During his brief stay at Franklinton, Ross made 
 many cautious inquiries concerning the whereabouts 
 of Amy I^arkin and her father; but he learned 
 nothing more definite than what Pritchard had told 
 him. Many times he had heard his sweetheart speak
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 281 
 
 of her birthplace in western Pennsylvania ; and now 
 he resolved to visit that section of the country. He 
 discarded his well-worn suit of buckskin, for gar- 
 ments of homespun cloth ; and, with his rifle upon 
 his shoulder and his bloodhound at his heels, set 
 out upon his quest. 
 
 After an absence of four mouths, he again returned 
 to the settlement upon the Scioto, having learned 
 nothing of the persons he sought. 
 
 General Harrison was now commander-in-chief of 
 the Western armies. He had established temporary 
 headquarters at Franklinton, and was busily en- 
 gaged in collecting and forwarding supplies toward 
 the lakes. Douglas was greatly pleased to learn of 
 his beloved commander's presence in the village, 
 and immediately repaired to his quarters. The gen- 
 eral was surprised and delighted to see him, and 
 said : 
 
 1 ' Ross Douglas, I can't express how glad I am 
 to meet you again to see you alive and well. 
 When you fell into the hands of the Indians at Tip- 
 pecanoe, I gave you up for lost. You appear as 
 one from the grave. Where have you been, how 
 did you escape, and what of your faithful com- 
 rades ? ' ' 
 
 Briefly Ross told of his capture and escape, care- 
 fully avoiding all mention of L,a Violette and Brad- 
 ford. General Harrison listened attentively to 
 the narrative, uttering frequent exclamations of 
 surprise and incredulity. When the younger man 
 had concluded, the older remarked :
 
 282 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' And your comrades Farley and the Wyandot 
 you don't know their fate ? " 
 
 " I do not," Ross answered sadly. " But they 
 are dead, or prisoners among the Winnebagoes. " 
 
 "Too bad too bad !" the general murmured 
 feelingly. ' ' They were noble fellows and devoted 
 to you ' ' 
 
 Then with animation : 
 
 ' ' But your dog the bloodhound that was your 
 constant companion ? " 
 
 " He's in the village with me." 
 
 While Douglas was speaking, he unconsciously 
 toyed with the ring upon his ringer. At last Harri- 
 son fixed his eyes upon the glittering jewel, and re- 
 marked : 
 
 ' ' That's a beautiful and valuable ring you wear, 
 my young friend. May I ask you to let me see it? " 
 
 Silently Douglas drew it off and placed it in his 
 companion's outstretched hand. Scarcely had it 
 dropped into Harrison's palm, ere he started and 
 cried : 
 
 "Douglas, where did you get this? " 
 
 Ross was disconcerted. His face flushed as he 
 stammered : 
 
 "A a friend gave it to me, General." 
 
 " And where did your friend get it? " the com- 
 mander demanded excitedly. 
 
 "I I ' ' Ross began ; but Harrison inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 "There you needn't tell me. However, I 
 know the ring. I can't be mistaken. Several
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 283 
 
 years ago I saw it upon the finger of Tenskwatawa, 
 the Shawnee Prophet, when he came to visit me at 
 Vincennes. At that time I took note of its beauty 
 and value. He told me it was a gift from an Eng- 
 lish officer, who had obtained it in the far East, and 
 hinted to me that it was possessed of some magic 
 power. That stone " tapping the gem with his 
 finger, "is a diamond of the first water. It's 
 quite large, as you see, and worth a considerable 
 sum of money. You are fortunate to possess so 
 valuable and beautiful an ornament." 
 
 With the words, he returned the ring to Douglas. 
 The latter sat looking at the jewel for some mo- 
 ments. Then raising his eyes to the commander's 
 face, he said earnestly : 
 
 " General, I haven't told you all concerning my 
 captivity among the Prophet's warriors. Would 
 you like to hear the story in full ? ' ' 
 
 " If you don't mind telling me, Douglas yes," 
 was the smiling reply. 
 
 For an hour they sat in the commander's quar- 
 ters the younger man calmly talking, the older 
 gravely listening. At last Douglas finished and 
 arose to go. 
 
 " Wonderful ! " Harrison exclaimed as he got 
 upon his feet. " Your story sounds like a mythical 
 tale of the long ago. And yet if I desired proof of 
 its truthfulness which I do not you have it with 
 you. Keep the ring, my boy, in remembrance of 
 the perils and adventures through which you have
 
 284 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 passed. I trust that in your possession whatever 
 its magic power it may not work the evil to our 
 country, it has done in the hands of the Prophet. 
 Tenskwatawa 'a wizard, a sorcerer, a cowardly 
 cur. Hiram Bradford an English agent among 
 the Indians, a spy among the Americans, your foe 
 your friend. La Violette an untutored sav- 
 age, a refined and intelligent white woman. What 
 characters for a romance a drama ! And yet 
 they are actual inhabitants of these Western 
 wilds." 
 
 Then suddenly riveting his keen gaze upon 
 Douglas's handsome face : 
 
 "What is your purpose now what are you 
 going to do ? " 
 
 " I came to offer my services to you, General," 
 was the answer. 
 
 The commander meditatively rubbed his chin for 
 some seconds. At last he said : 
 
 ' ' There will be but little active campaigning 
 until spring opens. Then the war will begin in 
 earnest and I shall need you. However, there 
 will be expeditions sent out against the troublesome 
 savages, all through the winter. By the way, I'm 
 going to send Colonel Campbell against the vil- 
 lages upon the Mississinewa, this month. Would 
 you care to go as guide and scout ? ' ' 
 
 " I should be greatly pleased to go," Ross an- 
 swered simply. 
 
 But his heart was beating wildly. The thought
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 285 
 
 was in his mind, that he might again meet I^a 
 Violette and, perhaps, persuade her to return 
 with him to Franklinton. 
 
 He heard the commander saying : 
 
 "The place is yours, then. The companies of 
 the expedition will assemble at Greenville. You 
 can join them there. Here's your commission. 
 Shall I bid you good-by ? " 
 
 " Yes," Ross answered decidedly. 
 
 They shook hands and parted. 
 
 Douglas accompanied Colonel Campbell's detach- 
 ment. He took part in the several skirmishes of 
 the winter campaign, and saw much hard service. 
 In the various petty engagements, quite a number 
 of Indians were killed and captured. From the red 
 prisoners, Ross learned that Tenskwatawa, I^a 
 Violette, and Bradford had left the Miami villages, 
 shortly after his departure, and had gone to join 
 Tecumseh at Maiden. 
 
 Colonel Campbell destroyed the towns upon the 
 Mississinewa, and in the latter part of December 
 returned to Greenville. 
 
 From this place, Ross Douglas went to Cincinnati. 
 He could not bear the thought of returning to 
 Franklinton. He was disheartened, moody, and 
 restless. So far as he knew, Amy I^arkin was lost 
 to him forever. Had she been false to her vows ? 
 He did not know ; and the maze of uncertainty 
 maddened him. 
 
 He spent the winter at Cincinnati. When spring 
 opened, he and Duke wanderers upon the face of
 
 286 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the planet drifted int6 Kentucky, where General 
 Green Clay was raising a regiment of militia to re- 
 enforce the garrison of Fort Meigs, upon the 
 Maumee. Douglas joined the command in his old 
 capacity of scout and guide, and with it marched 
 toward the seat of war.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IN THE latter part of April, 1813, General Harrison, 
 commander-in-chief of the Western troops, was 
 at Fort Meigs, upon the Maumee. 
 
 War between the United States and Great Britain 
 had been declared in June, 1812. In July, Fort 
 Mackinaw had fallen into the hands of the English ; 
 in August, Hull had basely surrendered at Detroit, 
 and the Americans had met defeat at the River 
 Raisin. In the early autumn September the 
 Prophet's braves had laid siege to Forts Wayne and 
 Harrison, but had been unsuccessful at both places. 
 Thus had closed the year. 
 
 In the early part of 1813, the Western campaign 
 had opened in earnest. In January, General Win- 
 chester had been defeated and captured at French- 
 town. Immediately following this battle or 
 massacre, rather General Harrison had moved 
 forward to the rapids of the Maumee, and begun the 
 construction of Fort Meigs. Here he had assem- 
 bled all the troops at his disposal, intending to 
 recover the ground lost through Hull's cowardice 
 and Winchester's incapacity. But the weather had 
 continued unfavorable ; and the commander had 
 returned to the interior of the state, with the view 
 of raising re-enforcements. Hardly had he set to 
 
 (287)
 
 288 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 work, however, when he received word that a 
 large force of the enemy was marching to attack 
 the garrison upon the Maumee. The general had 
 returned with all possible expedition, arriving at 
 the fort on the twentieth of April. 
 
 Fort Meigs so named in honor of the illustrious 
 governor of Ohio was situated upon the south 
 bank of the Maumee, at the foot of the rapids. It 
 stood upon high ground, about sixty feet above the 
 surface of the river ; and its walls of earth and 
 heavy timbers inclosed nearly ten acres. In outline 
 it resembled an irregular "D" the curved por- 
 tion of the letter facing the stream. At each of the 
 angles of the outer wall, was a strong blockhouse ; 
 and traverses of earth were thrown up inside of the 
 inclosure, to protect the occupants from the shells of 
 an attacking army. The fort was a depot of stores 
 of all kinds, for the approaching campaign ; and at 
 the time of General Harrison's return from the in- 
 terior was garrisoned by about five hundred men 
 regulars and volunteers. 
 
 After his arrival, on the twentieth of April, the 
 commander kept patrols out, watching for the en- 
 emy. On the twenty-sixth, he was apprised that 
 the advance guard was approaching. A few hours 
 later, a number of white men and Indians appeared 
 on the opposite shore, and coolly and critically in- 
 spected the fortification. On the twenty -seventh, a 
 party of savages crossed to the south side of the 
 stream, and annoyed the garrison with a desultory 
 rifle-fire. But little damage was done ; and the
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 289 
 
 general and his men feverishly awaited the appear- 
 ance of the main body of the enemy which they 
 knew was not far away. 
 
 The morning of the twenty-eighth was clear, and 
 gave promise of a beautiful day. But the wind 
 sweeping up from the lake was raw and chill. The 
 soldiers within the fort were astir at an early hour. 
 To their unbounded surprise, they could discover 
 nothing of their enemies of the day before. Some 
 of the officers and men were of the opinion that the 
 Indians, discouraged by their ill-success, had gone 
 to meet their brethren and allies and inform them 
 the place could not be taken. But General Harri- 
 son did not harbor such belief. On the con- 
 trary, he felt that the withdrawal of the small band 
 of savages portended a systematic attack by a large 
 force an attack he was not well able to withstand. 
 So he sent Captain Hamilton and a squad of men 
 down the river, on a reconnoitering expedition. 
 Then drawing his cloak around his shoulders, and 
 restlessly pacing up and down the inclosure, he in- 
 wardly condemned the niggardly and dilatory policy 
 of the government, and prayed that re-enforcements 
 might arrive in time to save him from an igno- 
 minious surrender. 
 
 His face wore an anxious and worried expression ; 
 but his thin lips were firmly set, his keen eyes 
 shone with the fire of an indomitable purpose. The 
 soldiers every one of whom loved him and had un- 
 bounded confidence in him looking upon him, 
 knew that no white flag would float over Fort 
 19
 
 290 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Meigs, as long as there was a man left to load and 
 fire a gun. And each one of them from the 
 highest officer to the meanest subaltern resolved 
 to die like a hero. 
 
 Near one of the blockhouses at the eastern ex- 
 tremity of the fort, stood a white man and an In- 
 dian. The former was slightly past middle age, 
 tall, stooped, and ungainly. The latter was much 
 younger, lithe, strong, and straight as an arrow. 
 For some time they stood silently watching the 
 commander, as he paced to and fro. At last the 
 white man blew his long nose vigorously, wiped the 
 tears from his eyes with the back of his horny hand, 
 and, screwing his homely features into a comical 
 grimace, said in a drawling tone : 
 
 " Injin, the sight o' the ol' Gener'l makes me sad 
 makes me think o' him that's dead an' gone." 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' his red companion grunted stolidly. 
 But the copper-colored face twitched ; the bare and 
 brawny chest heaved. 
 
 "Yes," the speaker continued, "the sight o' 
 Gener'l Harrison calls up things I wish I could 
 fergit it does, by cracky ! Gol-fer-socks ! I 
 can't fergit 'em not if I lived to be as old as 
 Methusaler, 'r was it Nebbycaneezer ? I'm a little 
 rusty on Scriptur', an' liable to git mixed, some- 
 how. But, pshaw ! The past is gone an' gone 
 ferever. The comrade we both loved is dead. 
 Didn' t we see him shot through the heart ? No 
 come to think of it he wasn't shot through the 
 heart; 'cause he was shot in the right side an'
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 291 
 
 the heart's on the left side, in most human critters. 
 But he was dead, anyhow killed by the danged 
 Winnebagoes ! ' ' 
 
 Again the speaker paused long enough to blow 
 his nose and wipe his watery eyes. Then he re- 
 sumed in the same mournful, sing-song voice : 
 
 "Though I seen him dyin' with my own eyes, 
 Injin, sometimes I find myself thinkin' he's still 
 alive I do, by Matildy Jane! I've dream'd o' 
 him nights so much, it 'pears to me he can't be 
 dead. But, of course, he is. 'Cause why ? We 
 left him dyin'. Well, it don't do no good to grieve. 
 But ther's one thing I'd like to know right smart 
 
 an' that's what become o' the dog." 
 
 " Ugh ! " ejaculated the Indian, nodding. " Me 
 heap like know where hound. Much good dog 
 
 sight big brave. ' ' 
 
 The white man went on : 
 
 "An' dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! Here we are 
 jest got back from eighteen months o' traipsin' 
 from one Winnebago town to another, all over 
 God's creation, all over the Northwest an' we're 
 right plump into another hornets' nest. Talk 
 'bout jumpin' out o' the fryin' pan into the fire ! 
 We've jumped out o' ice water into b'ilin' oil. 
 Here we've been drug 'round fer a year an' a half, 
 beat and starved an' cuffed every day in the week 
 
 an' give a double dose on Sundays. My heart's 
 been in my mouth so much, I've chawed off one end 
 of it an' spit it out with my tobacker I have, by 
 my gran'father's barn-door britches ! An' now
 
 292 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 we' ve made our escape at last got halfway back 
 from p'rdition to glory we're in another peck o' 
 trouble. 
 
 "As near as I can learn from the talk that's 
 goin' on 'mong the soldiers, Gener'l Proctor an' 
 Tecumseh's comin' to attack this place with not 
 less'n three thousan' white an' red devils. Three 
 thousan' to five hundred ! A purty pickle 
 I swear! Wy, hang-it-up-an'-take-it-down-an'- 
 cook-it ! They'll eat us up without salt 'r pepper ! 
 'Cause Ol' Tippecauoe'll never surrender he don't 
 know how. He's jest like ol' Mad Anthony 
 they say he trained under that ol' war hoss an' 
 he'll fight as long as he's got an ounce of lead left, 
 an' a flintlock to shoot it in. Look at him now, 
 Bright Wing. He's ev'ry inch a soldier, ain' t he ? " 
 
 "Ugh!" the imperturbable Wyandot assented. 
 ' ' Tippecanoe him heap sight brave. Him kill many 
 bad Shawnees, Winnebagoes, Pottawatomies. Him 
 fight till me, you all dead. ' ' 
 
 " Well," Farley groaned resignedly, " I s'posewe 
 can stand it, if the rest of 'em can. But the good 
 Lord knows we've stood 'bout enough ! Dodrot 
 it ! Sometimes I think the Lord has sent all my 
 latter trials an' tribulations upon me, fer growlin' 
 'bout whackin' them bulls from Fort Harrison 
 to the Prophet's Town I do, by flapjacks! An' 
 then ag'in I git to thinkin' my punishment is jest 
 the natur'l result o' the heartless way I've used the 
 women folks. W'y, Injin, I used to be a reg'lar 
 heart-breaker. I didn't have no mercy on the
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 293 
 
 unfortunates that bowed down an' worshiped my 
 beautiful face an' form. I was a reg'lar Apoller in 
 them days, I was purty as a pictur'. But look 
 at me now ! Whackin' bulls an' sufferin' Injin tor- 
 ment has jest 'bout ruined me. Where's my purty 
 hair, eh ? An' look at this nose, an' these ears, an' 
 this face ! Injin, my beauty's suffered a blightin' 
 frost it has, by my gran'mother's petticoat ! 
 W'y, ding-it-all-to-dangnation ! A few more hard 
 knocks, an' I won't look no better' n the average 
 man I won't, by ginger ! An' to think that an 
 Injin squaw the oldest an' ugliest one in the 
 whole Winnebago tribe follered an' tagged me 
 from Dan to Barsheber ! Follered an' tagged me 
 till I couldn't eat n'r sleep an' the frogs inside o' 
 me jest natur'ly got disgusted an' quit business. It 
 was awful awful ! Injin, clap y'r eyes upon me 
 an' tell me what I've done to deserve such a fate." 
 
 And Joe solemnly lifted his well-worn coonskin 
 cap and faced his companion. 
 
 Bright Wing looked upon his loquacious and 
 whimsical friend and smiled, while his beady eyes 
 twinkled ; but he said nothing. 
 
 Farley was indeed a comical object. His cloth- 
 ing hung in tatters upon his angular form ; his toes 
 peeped from his cowhide shoes. During his captivity, 
 the Winnebagoes had essayed the hapless task of 
 making an Indian of him. They had plucked out 
 his scant hair, leaving his scalp bare and shiny 
 excepting a straw-colored tuft at the crown. They 
 had pierced his nose and ears, and ornamented those
 
 294 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 necessary appendages with large shell rings. And, 
 to complete the fantastic whole, had tattooed the 
 totem of the clan, whose prisoner he was, in blue 
 ink upon his forehead. He was a sight to excite 
 mirth and commiseration at the same time. 
 
 " Well, what do you think o' my looks, any- 
 how? " he asked, when Bright Wing had finished 
 his silent inspection and was looking toward a dis- 
 tant part of the inclosure. 
 
 " Joe him very much pretty heap nice sight," 
 the Wyandot chuckled gutturally. ' ' Him Winne- 
 bago now big chief. ' ' 
 
 "That's it that's it!" Farley moaned lugu- 
 briously. " I knowed it my beauty's gone fer- 
 ever ! I'll never dare to peep in a lookin' -glass 
 ag'in the shock 'Id be too much fer my delicate 
 constertution to bear. By King David's cross-eyed 
 wives ! But my punishment's too great fer mortal 
 man to stand ! Drivin' oxen an' bein' the human 
 habitation of a colony o' frogs wan't enough ; the 
 Winnebagoes had to have a whack at me. An' 
 they've finished the job " 
 
 Then, with sudden animation : 
 
 " But what 're you lookin' at, Injin?" 
 
 Bright Wing silently pointed toward the command- 
 er' s quarters on the southern side of the inclosure. 
 General Harrison was just entering the door of his 
 tent, and, hurrying toward it, were an officer and a 
 number of soldiers. 
 
 "That's Cap'n Hamilton an' his squad," Joe 
 cried excitedly. "They've jest got back from the'r
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 295 
 
 scoutitT trip down the river. Now we'll know 
 what's comin'. L,e's mosey out that way." 
 
 Captain Hamilton, leaving his men outside, en- 
 tered the commander's tent and stood at attention. 
 
 "Well, Captain," Harrison remarked calmly, 
 "you're back soon. What's your report ? " 
 
 The inferior officer saluted and replied : 
 
 " Three miles down the river we came upon the 
 main body of the enemy, rapidly advancing in this 
 direction." 
 
 " Who's in command ? " 
 
 "General Proctor." 
 
 " And Tecumseh commands the savages? " 
 
 "He does, General." 
 
 ' ' Is their force as large as reported ? ' ' 
 
 " I judge from what I saw that they have a force 
 of fully three thousand men British regulars, 
 Canadian militia, and Indians." 
 
 ' ' Are they well supplied with heavy artillery ? ' ' 
 
 " I think they are, General. At any rate, they 
 have some heavy pieces. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Is that all you were able to learn ? ' ' 
 
 "It is, General." 
 
 ' ' The enemy will be here in a few hours at the 
 most," Harrison remarked. "They mean to invest 
 us to storm us, if necessary. Their force is six 
 times that of ours. But we must repulse them. To 
 surrender means to lose all for which we have 
 planned and fought and to court death at the 
 hands of the savages. If General Clay and his 
 Kentuckians were only here ' '
 
 296 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Then with fiery energy : 
 
 "But we must bestir ourselves. Captain, go 
 and give the order that the gates be tightly 
 closed at once after a supply of water, sufficient 
 to last several days, has been brought from the 
 river. ' ' 
 
 The captain saluted and withdrew. Turning to 
 an orderly standing near the door, the commander 
 said briskly : 
 
 ' ' Find the field commissary, Captain William 
 Oliver, and send him here." 
 
 A few minutes later Captain Oliver put in an ap- 
 pearance. He was young and beardless, but strong, 
 active, and courageous. 
 
 By this time, a number of officers had gathered at 
 the commander's quarters and were holding animated 
 conference with him. All looked up at the young 
 Captain's entrance. Harrison broke off in the mid- 
 dle of a sentence and, advancing, took the newcom- 
 er's hand. 
 
 ' ' Captain Oliver, ' ' he said solemnly, ' ' you know 
 the strait in which we're placed. If re-enforcements 
 don't arrive within a few days this place, with all 
 its stores, will inevitably fall into the hands of the 
 British. Such an event would be an incalculable 
 disaster. It mustn't happen. But we must have 
 help. General Green Clay is on his way hither, 
 with a regiment of Kentucky militia. I have re- 
 ceived word that he's coming by way of the 
 Auglaize. At the present time he must be 
 near Fort Winchester. I've decided to send
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 297 
 
 a dispatch to him, apprising him of the condi- 
 tion of affairs and urging him to hasten to our 
 aid ; and I've chosen you to perform the perilous 
 mission. Your brother officers approve my plan 
 and my choice of messenger. Are you willing to 
 venture upon the hazardous undertaking, Captain 
 Oliver?" 
 
 The assembled officers craned their necks, and lis- 
 tened breathlessly for the young commissary's re- 
 ply. It was not long in coming. Firm and clear his 
 voice rang out : 
 
 "I'll go, General willingly and gladly. I'll 
 deliver your dispatch into General Clay's hands 
 or die on the way. 
 
 " Thank you, Captain," Harrison murmured, his 
 voice soft with emotion. 
 
 Then quickly : 
 
 ' ' How soon can you start ? ' ' 
 
 "At once, General." 
 
 ' ' Very well the sooner the better. You should 
 be beyond reach of our enemies before they invest 
 the fort. Make your preparations and return in a 
 half hour. I'll have the dispatch ready for you. 
 By the way, how many men do you want ? ' ' 
 
 " One, General a guide." 
 
 " Hadn't you better take a score ? " 
 
 "They'd be of no use to me, General and 
 you need them here," was the firm reply. 
 
 ' ' True, ' ' the commander returned reflectively. 
 "Well, come back in half an hour. I'll have 
 everything in readiness. ' '
 
 298 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Captain Oliver bowed and withdrew. Just out- 
 side of the tent he encountered Farley, Bright 
 Wing, and a number of soldiers. Awkwardly lifting 
 his cap, the whimsical Joe stepped forward and 
 asked : 
 
 " Are we goin' to have a brush with the Britishers 
 an' redskins, Cap'n?" 
 
 " More than a brush, I imagine," answered the 
 commissary, edging his way through the crowd. 
 
 " An' what 're we goin' to do ? " Farley inquired. 
 
 " Fight," was the curt response. 
 
 Joe was nettled. 
 
 "Any fool'd know that," he muttered; "'spe- 
 cially if he'd been in the fight o' Tippecanoe with 
 theol' Gener'l 
 
 Captain Oliver stopped suddenly and, wheeling 
 around, interrupted : 
 
 ' ' You were with General Harrison at Tippeca- 
 noe, my friend ? ' ' 
 
 "I was," Farley answered proudly. "Me an' 
 Bright Wing, here, was both there." 
 
 "From your dress and general appearance, I 
 judge you are a woodman a hunter." 
 
 "I am what ther' is left o' me, which ain't 
 very much sence the danged Winnebagoes sp'iled 
 my beauty." 
 
 "You've been a prisoner among the Indians? " 
 
 "Yes both of us, ever sence the battle o' Tip- 
 pecanoe. We jest escaped jest got in here yister- 
 day." 
 
 " Does the commander know you ? "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 299 
 
 " He used to but I don't s'pose he would now. 
 The danged Winnebagoes " 
 
 Captain Oliver impatiently interrupted: 
 
 "I'm going on a journey. Would you and your 
 red friend like to accompany me? " 
 
 "That d'pends," was the cautious reply. " If it's 
 toward the Winnebago country " 
 
 " Please step this way," said the Captain, pluck- 
 ing Joe's ragged sleeve. 
 
 When they were beyond earshot of the others, 
 the officer explained : 
 
 "I'm going on a perilous mission. I want some- 
 one to accompany me as guide someone ac- 
 quainted with the woods " 
 
 " Well, where 're you goin' ? " Joe persisted. 
 
 "I'm going to meet General Clay, who is com- 
 ing by way of the Auglaize. " 
 
 " An' you want me an' the Injin to go with you, 
 as guides ? ' ' 
 
 " That's it. You're an American ? " 
 
 " Did you take me fer a Britisher?" indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " And you're acquainted with the country up and 
 down the valley ? " 
 
 ' ' I know it as well as I know the road to my own 
 mouth; so does the Injin he's a Wyandot, an ; 
 true as steel. When do you want to start ? " 
 
 " Immediately. Will you go with me ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And the Indian?" 
 
 "Of course."
 
 300 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " How soon can you be ready ? " 
 
 "We're ready now if we only had guns an' 
 ammynition. You see, when we got away from the 
 Winnebagoes we hadn't nothin' but the clo'es on our 
 backs which ain't much to speak of." And Joe 
 glanced ruefully at his tattered garments. "We 
 lived on roots an' barks, on the road here. Give us 
 guns an' ammynition, an' we're with you." 
 
 "You shall have what you want," was the de- 
 cided reply. ' ' Call your friend and come with 
 me." 
 
 A half hour later, Captain Oliver and his chosen 
 guides passed out at the western gate of the fort, 
 and disappeared in the dense woods upon the south- 
 ern bank of the river. 
 
 An hour after the departure of the brave dispatch- 
 bearer and his two comrades, the enemy put in an 
 appearance upon the opposite shore of the stream. 
 General Harrison pushed the work upon the grand 
 traverse. This was a wall of earth and timbers, run- 
 ning through the center of the inclosure, the full 
 length of the fortification. It was nine hundred 
 feet long, twenty feet wide at the base, and twelve 
 feet high ; and was intended to serve as a protection 
 against the shells of the British. Anticipating the 
 fact that the enemy would erect powerful batteries 
 on the opposite shore, the American commander 
 ordered that numerous excavations be made in the 
 south side of the grand traverse, to which his men 
 could retreat in time of danger from exploding mis- 
 siles.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 301 
 
 All the afternoon, the Indians annoyed the soldiers 
 of the garrison with a desultory rifle-fire ; but as 
 they fired at long range, their shots did little except 
 to cause the Americans to reply in like manner. 
 Late in the evening, two or three boat-loads of sav- 
 ages landed upon the south bank of the river, and, 
 taking up positions among the neighboring trees, 
 poured a more effective fire upon the fort. The 
 soldiers answered briskly ; and the fusillade was 
 kept up until nightfall. 
 
 In the meantime, the Americans had trained two 
 eighteen-pounders upon their enemies across the 
 river, causing them to retire to cover ; and the 
 British had succeeded in crossing the stream and 
 throwing up earthworks for the protection of their 
 fieldpieces, a short distance from the southeastern 
 angle of the fort. The place was completely in- 
 vested. Preparations were active, on the one side, 
 to storm the garrison ; on the other, to repel the 
 most vigorous assault. 
 
 On the morning of the twenty-ninth, General 
 Harrison issued a general order, appealing to the 
 patriotism of his men. 
 
 All day the rifle-fire was continued by both sides. 
 Several of the Americans received serious wounds, 
 and a number of the enemy were killed. 
 
 On the morning of the thirtieth, the condition of 
 affairs was much the same. Within the fort, the 
 grand traverse was nearing completion ; and the 
 British were placing their heavy siege guns in posi- 
 tion on the opposite shore,
 
 302 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 The Americans were well supplied with food, 
 but they suffered much from want of water. They 
 were digging a well within the inclosure ; but, in 
 the meantime, they had to procure their supply from 
 the river at night a hazardous proceeding. 
 
 On the following day, the British had a number of 
 their cannon in position, and began a bombardment. 
 The Americans returned shot for shot ; and a num- 
 ber of men were killed upon each side. 
 
 For the next four days there was little change in 
 the situation. Both armies were on the alert to 
 take an advantage of the other, but none offered. 
 General Harrison had removed all his tents and 
 paraphernalia behind the traverses ; and the enemy 
 had nothing to shoot at but the bare earthen walls. 
 The soldiers within the fort and the savages with- 
 out kept up an incessant rifle-fire ; and the great 
 guns on both sides thundered. But the American 
 commander's supply of shot and shell was running 
 short. 
 
 Apparently, the enemy had abandoned all idea of 
 storming the fort and had settled down to take it by 
 siege.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ABOUT sixty miles above Fort Meigs, near the 
 junction of the Auglaize and the Maumee, 
 lay Fort Winchester formerly Fort De- 
 fiance. Within its walls, General Green Clay and 
 his Kentucky militiamen were encamped resting 
 after their long and arduous march, and knowing 
 nothing of the urgent need of their presence at Fort 
 Meigs. 
 
 In the early morning of the thirtieth of April, 
 three men entered the gateway of the fortification. 
 They were Captain Oliver and his two guides. The 
 former immediately made inquiries for the com- 
 mander, and was directed to the officers' quarters. 
 Farley and Bright Wing stopped with a squad of 
 men near the gate, and the loquacious Joe entered 
 into conversation with them. While the white men 
 were talking, the Wyandot leaned upon his gun and 
 swept his eyes about the place. Suddenly he gave 
 a grunt of astonishment and laid his hand upon 
 his comrade's arm. 
 
 "What is it, Injin?" Farley inquired, as he 
 whirled about upon his heel. 
 
 ' ' Dog dog Duke ! ' ' muttered Bright Wing in 
 awe-struck tones, his gaze fixed upon a distant part 
 of the inclosure. 
 
 (303)
 
 304 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 1 ' Duke ? " exclaimed Joe. ' ' What do you mean ? 
 Where?" 
 
 ' ' Dog Duke him over there now gone, ' ' came 
 the soft guttural reply. 
 
 "Say, Injin, you're gittin' loony," Farley as- 
 serted solemnly. " Ther' ain't no dog over there 
 n'r hain't been." 
 
 "Me see dog," the Wyandot insisted. " Look 
 heap much like Duke." 
 
 ' ' Yes, he saw a dog 'r a bloodhoun' , to be more 
 exact," affirmed a raw-boned Kentuckian, pointing 
 toward one of the corner blockhouses. ' ' I saw it, 
 too. The animal was jest passin" into the block- 
 house. He's an unsociable brute, an' belongs to one 
 o' the guides." 
 
 "Well, it ain't the dog we used to know, though 
 it may look some like him," Joe asserted positively. 
 " 'Cause the redskins has made a meal o' him, long 
 'fore this. Come on, Injin. I^e's see if we can't 
 find somethin' to fill up on. I'm as empty as a frog 
 pon' durin' a dry spell." 
 
 The two comrades left the group at the gate and 
 went to another part of the inclosure. At one of 
 the mess-fires they were proffered food, which they 
 gladly accepted. After eating heartily, they leisurely 
 sauntered about the place, Joe whimsically com- 
 menting upon all they observed. 
 
 They had finished a tour of the inclosure, and 
 were irresolutely pondering what to do next, when 
 Farley suddenly threw up his head and stood rigid 
 as a ramrod, his eyes fixed upon a large bloodhound
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 305 
 
 that came from behind a tent and trotted toward 
 them. 
 
 "Duke 'r his ghost ! " he whispered with trem- 
 bling lips. " Injin, do you see him, too ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " Bright Wing managed to ejaculate. 
 
 " Then it's Duke an' not his ghost," Joe said in a 
 relieved tone. " 'Cause I've alluz heerd it said 
 that two folks don't see a ghost at the same time. 
 Injin, he's comin' right toward us it is Duke, by 
 Katy Melissy ! Here, Duke here, purp !" 
 
 The bloodhound was trotting toward them, his 
 nose close to the ground. Evidently he was trail- 
 ing them. At the sound of Farley's voice, he threw 
 up his muzzle and set his eyes upon the two men. 
 Then with a short, hoarse yelp of joy, he sprang 
 toward them. 
 
 " Dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! " shouted Joe. ' ' It's 
 ol' Duke an' he knows us ! Injin, he had smelt 
 out our tracks an' was trailin' us. I know you, ol' 
 feller of course, I do ! An' I'm as glad to see you, 
 as you are to see me. But git down, purp ; you'll 
 spile my nice clo'es, with y'r dirty paws you will, 
 by cracky ! " 
 
 Farley's voice was tremulous, and the tears were 
 running down his furrowed cheeks. He was laugh- 
 ing and weeping at the same time. 
 
 The hound crouched at the feet of his old com- 
 panions and whined ; he fawned upon them ; he 
 circled about them, barking madly. 
 
 " Duke him heap sight glad see me, you all of 
 us," Bright Wing muttered sagely. " Me, you, all 
 
 20
 
 306 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 of us very much glad see dog Duke. Him no dead 
 him here. Maybe master no dead him here." 
 
 "Shut up, Injin shut up!" Farley cried 
 sternly. " Don't go to raisin' no false hopes like 
 that, in a feller's gizzard. Ross Douglas is dead 
 me an' you saw him dyin'. The redskins led by 
 that dang Bradford found him an' the dog to- 
 gether. No doubt they scalped an' stripped the 
 master an' drug away the dog. But somebody got 
 the houn' away from the thievin' , murderin' red 
 devils an' here he is. I can read it all like 
 readin' a book. A heap better, in fact, fer I ain't 
 much on book learnin'. But ther's one thing we 
 want to do find this scout that claims to own the 
 dog, an' make him tell where he got him." 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! " And bright Wing nodded assent. 
 
 "Come on, then," Joe began excitedly, but 
 stopped and stared stupidly around. 
 
 " Wher's the purp?" he muttered. 
 
 " Duke him clean gone," muttered the Wyandot. 
 "Him gone that way" pointing with his rifle. 
 " Gone hunt new master." 
 
 "Well, we'll foller him," Farley said decidedly. 
 "An' I'll mighty soon tell this new master he 
 hain't got no right to the houn', an' that we're 
 goin' to take the brute with us. Eh, Injin? " 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! All right me, too. ' ' 
 
 And again Bright Wing nodded vigorously. 
 
 " An' if he gives me any of his sass," Farley 
 went on savagely, " I'll whip the scoundrel within 
 an inch of his worthless life I will, by I^ucindy !
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 307 
 
 Nobody but you an' me has any right to Duke now. 
 An' we'll have him 'r know the reason why. Gol- 
 fer-socks ! How I wish Ross Douglas was alive an' 
 here. I'd be willin' to let the danged Winnebagoes 
 punch my nose an' pierce my ears an' pull out my 
 hair an' whiskers, to the'r heart's content. Yes, 
 I'd be willin' to let 'em destroy the last remnants o' 
 my beauty, an pull out my lairipin' tongue by the 
 roots I would, 'r my name ain't Joseph Peregoy 
 Farley !" 
 
 The two comrades were walking in the direction 
 whence the bloodhound had gone. Just as they 
 reached the spot where the Wyandot had seen the 
 dog disappear among a cluster of tents, a militia- 
 man crossed their path. 
 
 "Say, friend," Farley said hurriedly, "do you 
 happen to know the man that owns the big blood- 
 houn' that's runnin' 'round the camp? " 
 
 "Yes," the soldier answered promptly. 
 
 " Well, we're huntin' him. What kind of a look- 
 ing critter is he ? " 
 
 "He's one o' the scouts a youngish-like man, 
 big an' stout ; a kind of a surly feller, like his dog 
 don't have much to say to nobody. But he 
 knows his business an' 'tends to it. Anything 
 more you'd like to know? " 
 
 "I'd like to know where to find him," Joe re- 
 plied coolly, unheeding the sarcasm of the other's 
 tone and words. 
 
 " You'll find him right in that big tent. He's 
 in there holdin' a conflab with the Gener'l an' his
 
 308 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 staff. You act as if you had important business 
 with him." 
 
 " I have," answered Joe, shutting his teeth with 
 a snap. " What's his name?" 
 
 "I don't know " the soldier began 
 
 slowly. ' ' Yes, I do. I heard our Captain call him 
 by name the other day. I^e's see. It was some- 
 thin' likeRuggles 'r Buggies. No, that wasn't it. 
 I guess I can't think of it." 
 
 Bright Wing's black eyes opened very wide, and 
 he uttered a surprised "Ugh!" Farley's cheek 
 paled under its coat of tan. He tried to speak ; 
 but the words would not come. At last he managed 
 to stammer : 
 
 "It It wasn't Douglas, was it?" 
 
 "That's it Douglas," exclaimed the militia- 
 man, slapping his thigh. "Douglas yes, that's 
 the name." 
 
 "Ross Douglas?" 
 
 Joe's face was ashen as he put the question. 
 
 "Now you've hit it ! " the man shouted triumph- 
 antly. "That's the very name I heard the Captain 
 call him Ross Douglas. ' ' 
 
 Farley and Bright Wing stared at each other, in 
 speechless amazement. Their chests were heaving ; 
 their lips, apart. The militiaman looked from one 
 to the other in silent wonder. The Wyandot re- 
 gained the power of speech and grunted : 
 
 ' ' Duke him not dead him here. Master not dead, 
 too him here. Ross here Fleet Foot ugh ! " 
 
 " Injin, you're & 'tarnal fool!" Farley cried
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 309 
 
 angrily, his face suddenly flushing then paling. 
 " Fer God's sake, don't make no more remarks like 
 that ! You know an' I know that Ross 
 Douglas's dead. You're a fool ! " 
 
 11 Joe big fool ! " Bright Wing returned sullenly. 
 
 "No, I ain't ! " Farley vociferated wildly. " I 
 can see the length of my nose an' you can't. 
 Don't you understand, Injin. W'y the dang skunk 
 that's got Ross Douglas's houn' has got Ross Doug- 
 las's name stol'd both of 'em, of course. Jest 
 wait till he steps out o' that tent, an' I'll give him 
 the infernalest lambastin' a man ever got in his life 
 I will, by by " 
 
 But Joe, in his excitement, could think of no suit- 
 able object by which to swear, so ended with a 
 gasping sputter. 
 
 "You seem to be terribly worked-up 'bout some- 
 thin', stranger," the soldier remarked coolly. "An' 
 you threaten to trounce the guide that calls hisself 
 Ross Douglas. Well, maybe you're like a singed 
 cat better' n you look but if I was you I'd hire 
 the job out. I seen the feller you talk o' whippin' 
 lick two men bigger' u you an' not half try 
 jest 'cause they spit tobacker juice in his dog's eye." 
 
 " It don't make no differ'nce who he's licked, n'r 
 who he hain't, ' Joe answered obstinately. "A 
 man that's mean enough to palm hisself off fer Ross 
 Douglas who's dead an' gone has got to take a 
 trouncin' from me. Ross Douglas was my best 
 friend ; an' I won't have his name stol'd an' dis- 
 graced by no two-legged critter that ever tramped
 
 3 io THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 on new ground I won't, by Queen Elizabeth ! It 
 'pears the rascal thinks a sight o' the dog bein' 
 ready to fight fer him ; but my mind's made up 
 the cuss has got to be licked." 
 
 By this time a knot of soldiers had gathered at 
 the spot. Now they nudged one another and ex- 
 changed facetious winks and remarks. They were 
 expecting to see no end of fun, when the guide 
 should put in an appearance. 
 
 Farley muttered impatiently : 
 
 " I wish the critter'd come right while I'm in a 
 good notion. When he does, one o' you fellers 
 p'int him out to me." 
 
 A number of the assembled militiamen offered to 
 perform the service. Suddenly one of them re- 
 marked in a stage whisper : 
 
 ' ' The council's broke up. Here comes the offi- 
 cers now. ' ' 
 
 " P'int him out to me ! " Farley hissed between 
 his set teeth. 
 
 And giving his gun into Bright Wing's hands, he 
 rolled up his ragged sleeves, revealing his knotted 
 and sinewy arms. 
 
 The officers emerged from General Clay's tent. 
 Captain Oliver was among them. He caught sight 
 of Farley and, noting the woodman's attitude and 
 expression, walked up to him, saying : 
 
 f 'You appear excited, my friend. What's the 
 matter?" 
 
 The assembled militiamen grinned broadly ; and 
 the officers paused momentarily. But Joe kept his
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 311 
 
 pale, watery eyes fixed upon the opening in the 
 canvas wall and did not reply to the question. The 
 Captain turned to Bright Wing with : 
 
 "What ails your comrade? " 
 
 ' ' Ugh ! ' ' was the guttural response. ' ' Joe him 
 heap mad man. Him want fight much bad." 
 
 At that moment a tall, broad-shouldered young 
 man appeared in the doorway. At his side trotted 
 a magnificent bloodhound. 
 
 ' ' There he is go fer him ! " a mischievous 
 militiaman whispered in Farley's ear. 
 
 Joe clapped his eyes upon the figure emerging 
 from the tent, and, with a hoarse, inarticulate cry, 
 staggered back a few steps and covered his face 
 with his hands. 
 
 Officers and men were astounded, and could only 
 stand and stare. Bright Wing gave a grunt of sur- 
 prise and satisfaction, and became a bronze statue. 
 The hound ran forward and fawned at the feet of 
 the two woodmen. Then the young man in the 
 doorway shouted joyously : 
 
 "Joe Farley and Bright Wing ! " 
 
 Joe dropped his hands to his side, and for a brief 
 moment stood with mouth agape. Then ,with the 
 cry "It'sRoss Douglas hisself, alive an'a-livin'" 
 he sprang forward and thi;ew his long, bony arms 
 around his friend's neck. 
 
 Bright Wing grinned broadly and muttered : 
 
 "Dog Duke alive and here ; Fleet Foot alive and 
 here. Joe heap sight big fool. Ugh ! ' ' 
 
 Duke capered about in mad delight, baying and
 
 312 
 
 whining by turns. Ross and Joe held each other 
 at arm's length and looked long and earnestly into 
 each other's eyes. Tears were raining down their 
 cheeks, and their lips were trembling. 
 
 An oppressive silence rested upon the little knot of 
 soldiers who were watching the drama enacting be- 
 fore them. Of a sudden a militiaman broke the 
 spell by shouting : 
 
 "Well, if that don't beat all the ways to lick a 
 man, I'm a numbskull ! " 
 
 With shouts of laughter, the crowd gradually 
 dispersed. Douglas tore himself from Farley's 
 grasp and, flying to Bright Wing, warmly embraced 
 him. In return the Wyandot gave his friend a 
 bear-like hug. Joe stood blubbering and wiping his 
 weak eyes. For once in his life the power of speech 
 had deserted him. Drawing the two together, 
 Douglas said with deep emotion : 
 
 ' ' God knows how glad I am to meet you again 
 to find you alive and well ! I've mourned you 
 as dead." 
 
 Farley suddenly found his voice and replied : 
 
 " An' maybe we ain't glad to see you, Ross ! We 
 not only thought you was dead we knowed you 
 was. We seen you dyin' we left you fer dead. 
 An' dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! Hang-it-up-an'-take- 
 it-down-an'-cook-it ! I can't hardly believe my 
 senses. Where' ve you been how did you come 
 to life? Tell me all about it right now don't 
 wait a minute. By King Solerman's six hundred 
 wives ! I never was as happy in my born days ! ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 313 
 
 "Come, my friends," Ross said softly, sadly, 
 " let's find a quiet place, and sit down and talk." 
 
 He led them to a distant corner of the fortifica- 
 tion. There, seated upon a log, they entered into 
 explanations. Douglas told the two of his miracu- 
 lous escape from death in the woods, of his multi- 
 farious adventures and experiences among the In- 
 dians at the village upon the Mississinewa, and of 
 the bitter disappointment he had met on his return 
 to Franklinton. Last of all, he showed them the 
 Prophet's ring. Farley gingerly examined the 
 talisman, but said nothing. Bright Wing would 
 not touch the uncanny thing, but shudderingly re- 
 marked : 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa big medicine man bad Shaw- 
 nee. Ring very much strong make redrnen sleep. 
 Ugh ! " 
 
 And he drew away from it. 
 
 When Douglas had finished, Farley began his 
 narrative. In conclusion he said : 
 
 "Yes, Ross Douglas, me an' the Injin's been 
 pris'ners 'mong the Winnebagoes, ever sence we left 
 you up to a few days ago. A dozen times they 
 was goin' to kill us, but somethin' alluz happened 
 jest in the nick o' time to save us. But look at me ! 
 Where's the beauty that once was mine? Gone 
 sacrificed by the dang redskins ! It's a sin an' a 
 shame it is, by my gran'mother's shoestrings ! 
 An' we'd 'ave been in the clutches o' the red devils 
 yit, but the most of 'em took it into the'r heads to 
 jine Tecumseh on his rampage 'g'inst Fort Meigs.
 
 3 I4 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 That give us a chance to git away. But holy in- 
 cense ! Talk 'bout sufferin' ! Hain't I 'xperienced 
 it? Yit you've had a right smart taste y'rself, Ross. 
 Yes, things has come out jest as I told you they 
 would. I said if you left ol' Sam parkin's gal an' 
 went off to war, she'd marry that scalawag of a 
 Hilliard. An' she's done it. But gol-fer-socks ! 
 That's the way o' the whole feminine gender. 
 Don't I know 'em say? Still I don't fancy you're 
 so much disap'inted over the turn things has took, 
 Ross. Eh?" 
 
 And Farley smiled quizzically. 
 
 "What do you mean, Joe?" Douglas asked 
 quickly. 
 
 " Oh ! you know well enough what I mean," the 
 other chuckled. ' ' I think if you could find the 
 little red-haired gal that set you free, you wouldn't 
 hunt overmuch fer Amy L,arkin. That's my 'pinion, 
 at least." 
 
 "You're wrong, my old friend," Douglas has- 
 tened to say. " I have been true to Amy Larkin ; I 
 trust and believe she has been true to me. I shall 
 continue my search for her and never rest till I 
 find her ; although I have no knowledge of her 
 whereabouts. But I must leave you now, to assist 
 in the preparations for departure." 
 
 " Go ahead ! don't let us keep you," Farley as- 
 sented. " Ol' Tippecanoe's in a bad box down there 
 at Fort Meigs, an' the sooner we all git there, the 
 better. How soon do you think the army'll be 
 ready to move ? "
 
 "By to-morrow morning, at the latest. I'll see 
 you again this evening. Then we can talk to our 
 heart's content. " 
 
 Douglas hurried from the spot, and Farley and 
 Bright Wing, arising, again sauntered aimlessly 
 about the place, followed by the bloodhound. 
 
 In the meantime, preparations for the hurried 
 trip down the river were rapidly going on. Officers 
 were stalking hither and thither, giving sharp com- 
 mands. Hundreds of men were busily engaged in 
 loading the camp equipage, arms, ammunition, and 
 provisions upon flat, open boats that lay moored at 
 the water's edge. 
 
 All day the work proceeded without intermis- 
 sion. When one set of men became weary, others 
 took their places. By sunset the boats were loaded 
 everything on board but the men themselves. 
 That night they slept in their dismantled camp, 
 upon the bare ground. At daylight they manned 
 their clumsy vessels and commenced their venture- 
 some voyage down the Maumee. 
 
 General Clay had twelve hundred men in his com- 
 mand, and his fleet consisted of eighteen flats of 
 various size. For four days the primitive flotilla 
 moved slowly onward between walls of unbroken 
 forest. The only motive power was the sluggish 
 current, and poles and sweeps in the hands of the 
 sturdy Kentuckians. 
 
 The weather was warm and sunshiny. Mating 
 birds twittered and chirped in the budding boughs 
 of the trees along the shore, and reviewed their
 
 3 i6 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 nesting-places of the year before. The clear water 
 lapped musically against the sides of the moving 
 craft ; and the militiamen, lolling in the genial sun- 
 shine, smoked their pipes and chatted cheerily, un- 
 aware of the black fate that awaited them.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LATE on the night of the fourth of May, General 
 Clay and his relief expedition arrived at the 
 head of the rapids, a few miles above Fort 
 Meigs. Captain Oliver and a squad of men among 
 whom were Farley and Bright Wing slipped ashore 
 and started afoot for the fort. Then the pilot flatly 
 refusing to proceed farther in the darkness the 
 commander was compelled to tie up his boats and 
 wait for daylight. 
 
 Captain Oliver and his men succeeded in eluding 
 the vigilant Indians, and entered the fortification at 
 two o'clock in the morning. The youthful commis- 
 sary immediately repaired to General Harrison's 
 quarters, and apprised him of the near approach of 
 the re-eriforcements. 
 
 An hour later, after a hasty consultation with 
 his officers, the commander sent Captain Hamilton 
 and a subaltern up the river, to meet General Clay. 
 They bore orders to the effect that Clay was to land 
 eight hundred men upon the left bank of the stream, 
 to carry the British batteries and spike the cannon ; 
 also, that the residue of the militia were to disem- 
 bark upon the south shore and fight their way to 
 the fort. It was the design of Harrison to make 
 sorties against the enemy upon the same side of the 
 
 (3i7)
 
 318 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 river whenever the Kentuckians should attack the 
 English artillerists upon the north bank. 
 
 In the gray of the early morning, General Clay 
 cut loose his boats and drifted into the rapids. 
 Scarcely were the unwieldy vessels under way, when 
 a hail came from the southern shore ; and Captain 
 Hamilton and his companion appeared at the water's 
 edge, frantically waving their arms. They were 
 taken aboard the craft upon which was the com- 
 mander of the expedition ; and there the Captain 
 delivered his message. 
 
 Word was rapidly passed from one boat to another. 
 Soon all was animation and excitement. The 
 soldiers who had had nothing to eat since the 
 evening before, and who still lay upon the decks, 
 wrapped in their mist-dampened blankets hastily 
 threw off their coverings, sprang to their feet, and 
 prepared for battle. In low tones they conversed 
 and left messages with one another for the dear 
 ones at home. But there was no panic no sign 
 of cowardice. Fixed purpose, not fear, was in each 
 rugged face. 
 
 Slowly the flats drifted into the middle of the rap- 
 ids. Soon they gained in impetus and floated more 
 and more rapidly. The water chuckled and gur- 
 gled at the bows, and danced in creamy wakes be- 
 hind. Except for a crisp command, now and then, 
 all was silence on board the silence of determined 
 men ready to battle to the death. 
 
 Colonel Dudley was to lead the detachment 
 against the English batteries upon the nprthern
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 319 
 
 shore. His boat was in advance of the others. Sud- 
 denly a number of savages appeared upon the left 
 bank, and, with hoots and yells, discharged their 
 pieces at the advancing flotilla. One officer was 
 wounded slightly. Then the militiamen returned 
 the fire and the Indians fled to shelter. 
 
 Silence again reigned ; and the flotilla drifted on- 
 ward. 
 
 In a few minutes, it had reached the foot of the 
 rapids. Colonel Dudley, detaching twelve boats 
 and eight hundred men, steered for the northern 
 shore, intending to land about a mile above the 
 British batteries. General Clay, with the six remain- 
 ing boats and about four hundred men, made an effort 
 to disembark upon the southern bank, a short distance 
 above the beleaguered fort. But wind and current 
 were against him. Only fifty of the militiamen 
 had got ashore, when the vessels were swept 
 from their moorings. This little squad of Kentuck- 
 ians valiantly fought their way through the horde of 
 whooping savages that hemmed them in, and 
 reached the fort without the loss of a man. 
 
 The remaining three hundred and fifty under 
 command of Colonel Boswell after repeated trials 
 and failures, finally effected a landing upon the right 
 bank, at a point near the western end of the fortifi- 
 cation. General Harrison sent a sortie to their aid ; 
 and the combined force repulsed the Indians and Ca- 
 nadian militia, and marched in triumph to the fort. 
 
 A short time afterward the commander sent an- 
 other sortie against the batteries southeast of the
 
 3 2o THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 garrison. A stubborn engagement took place. The 
 sturdy Americans, though greatly outnumbered, 
 .drove the British from their position, spiked several 
 of their cannon, and, taking a number of prisoners, 
 made a safe retreat. 
 
 Fighting had commenced on all sides of the be- 
 leaguered fortification. A ring of flame had encircled 
 the place ; the Stars and Stripes had received a fresh 
 baptism of blood. Now the smoke of battle lifted 
 and the brave men within the walls turned their 
 attention to their brethren on the opposite side of 
 the river. General Harrison, glass in hand, was 
 anxiously scanning the distant shore. Suddenly, 
 he dropped his hand to his side and groaned : 
 
 "My God! They are lost lost! They've 
 captured the batteries, but are allowing themselves 
 to be lured into an ambuscade. Their impetuosity 
 will be their undoing! " 
 
 Let us follow Colonel Dudley. Without difficulty, 
 he landed upon the northern bank of the river, a 
 mile above the British batteries. Gallantly his 
 men charged the English artillerists and drove them 
 from their guns. Had they been content with 
 spiking the cannon and returning to their boats, all 
 would have been well. But the Indians in the ad- 
 jacent woods were pouring a galling fire into the 
 American ranks. 
 
 This the dare-devil Kentuckians could not stand. 
 With lusty cheers, they charged the savages and 
 drove them pell-mell into the depths of the forest. 
 Colonel Dudley feared an ambuscade, and sought to
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 321 
 
 restrain the ardor of his troops, but in vain. The 
 reckless militiamen continued the chase, pushing 
 farther and farther into the tangled woodland. 
 
 Presently the wily redrnen rallied and essayed to 
 outflank their pursuers. A pitched battle took 
 place. The rattle of firearms became a deafening 
 roar; the dense smoke obscured friend and foe. 
 Colonel Dudley ordered a charge along the whole 
 line. It availed nothing ; the Indians could not be 
 dislodged. Next came the order to retreat to the 
 boats. This the Kentuckians were ready to do. 
 They had suffered severely they realized their 
 mistake. Foot by foot, they began a retreat toward 
 the shore, fighting every step of the way. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the English artillerymen fled to 
 old Fort Miami, a short distance down the river 
 where General Proctor had his headquarters and 
 reported the loss of the batteries. The British com- 
 mander, thinking a general attack upon his encamp- 
 ment was imminent, immediately recalled a large 
 part of his troops from the south side of the stream, 
 and dispatched them to the scene of conflict. 
 They arrived in time to fall upon the American 
 rear, completely cut off their retreat, and kill or cap- 
 ture almost the entire force. Only one hundred and 
 fifty of the gallant but rash eight hundred regained 
 their boats and reached Fort Meigs. 
 
 At the beginning of this engagement, Tecumseh, 
 with a part of his savage band, was in the immediate 
 vicinity of the American fortification. On receiving 
 word from Proctor, the great chief swam the river 
 
 21
 
 322 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 and, mounting a horse, galloped to the scene of 
 conflict. Well he knew what would happen were 
 his warriors successful in the fight. But he arrived 
 too late. The battle was ended ; the butchery had 
 begun. 
 
 With the wailing cry ' ' What will become of 
 my red brothers what will become of my red 
 brothers ! " he wheeled his steed and dashed along 
 the path leading from the battle-ground to the Brit- 
 ish encampment. The way was strewn with the 
 mutilated corpses of murdered Americans. At the 
 sight he clinched his white teeth and spurred on. 
 Reaching the gateway of the encampment, he gal- 
 loped through and leaped to the ground. 
 
 The butchery was still going on. General Proc- 
 tor was allowing the Indians to select their victims 
 and kill them as they saw fit. The savages were 
 satiating their thirst for blood, to the fullest ex- 
 tent. 
 
 "Hold!" Tecumseh thundered, drawing his 
 tomahawk and facing his half-mad followers. ' ' The 
 brave who kills another defenseless prisoner dies by 
 my hand ! ' ' 
 
 And drawing himself defiantly erect, he fixed his 
 piercing gaze upon the assembled redmen. 
 
 Cowed by the commanding presence of the chief 
 they loved and feared, the Indians relinquished 
 their victims and sullenly returned their blood- 
 stained weapons to their belts. But one stubborn 
 Winnebago, unheeding the command, sprang upon 
 a prisoner standing near him. The next instant
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 323 
 
 Tecumseh's hatchet descended and the red fiend 
 was a corpse. 
 
 Grunts of approval greeted the summary act. 
 
 " Listen, warriors 1 " the great Shawnee shouted. 
 "I said no more helpless captives should die. 
 They shall not. I told you I would kill any who 
 disobeyed my commands. I have kept my word. 
 Had I been here this slaughter never would have 
 occurred. For shame ! Are you warriors or wolves ? 
 Dare to disobey me and die ! " 
 
 He turned sadly away. Seeing General Proctor 
 standing near, he boldly strode up to the Englishman 
 and demanded : 
 
 " Why have you permitted this massacre you, 
 a paleface? " 
 
 "Sir," replied the general haughtily, " your In- 
 dians cannot be commanded controlled. They 
 refused to obey my orders." 
 
 " Begone ! " the great chief sneered. " You are 
 unfit to command ! You are a squaw ; go and put 
 on petticoats ! " 
 
 General Proctor's face flushed hotly, but he did not 
 utter the sharp retort that trembled upon his tongue. 
 And it was well for him that he did not. 
 
 Tecumseh folded his arms and, stalking up and 
 down among his warriors, kept them from further 
 acts of violence. 
 
 The garrison of Fort Meigs, realizing the fate 
 that threatened their brethren upon the opposite 
 side of the river, went wild with excitement and anx- 
 iety. The commander and his officers repeatedly
 
 324 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 signalled the venturesome militiamen to return 
 to their boats and cross over to the fort. Priv- 
 ates mounted the parapets and traverses unmind- 
 ful of Indian bullets and shouted themselves 
 hoarse in futile endeavor to attract the attention of 
 the impetuous Kentuckians. 
 
 As has been shown, all this was vain. Then the 
 soldiers within the walls demanded that they be led to 
 the rescue of their friends. This General Harrison 
 wisely refused to permit. But he asked for volun- 
 teers to cross the stream and recall Dudley and his 
 men from the pursuit of the savages. lieutenant 
 Campbell offered his services. But when he reached 
 the British batteries on the other side, Colonel Dud- 
 ley and his men had disappeared in the thick woods. 
 The Lieutenant immediately recrossed to the fort 
 and reported the fact to his commander. 
 
 General Harrison was almost beside himself with 
 rage and grief. Striding up and down in front of 
 his tent, he wrung his hands and groaned : 
 
 " When will my countrymen learn to obey com- 
 mands ! Foolhardiness is as bad as cowardice 
 and leads to as grave results. Colonel Dudley and 
 his command will be cut to pieces ; every man will 
 be killed or captured. And I dare not send troops 
 to his aid. My hands are tied ! " 
 
 A light breeze, sweeping in from the lake, rippled 
 the surface of the river and brought to the ears of 
 those within the garrison, the rattling crash of fire- 
 arms in the distance and the cheers and whoops of 
 the combatants. The smoke of the conflict rose
 
 THE'SIGN OF THE PROPHET 325 
 
 above the tree-tops and drifted lazily toward the 
 fort. With the smell of burning powder in their 
 nostrils, the soldiers were hard to restrain. They 
 ran from one part of the inclosure to another, 
 brandishing their arms, and grumbling and cursing 
 angrily. 
 
 " Ding-it-all-to-dingnation I "Joe Farley bellowed, 
 gripping the stock of his rifle and panting hard with 
 excitement. " Injin, we'd ort to be over there 
 we had, by Jerushy ! Dang the hard-headed 
 Kaintuckians, anyhow ! The idee of 'em pokin' 
 the'r noses into a hornets' nest, like that ! They 
 hain't got a bit o' gumption. But sombody's got 
 to go to the'r help, 'r ther' won't be a man of 'em left 
 to tell the story. An' what's worryin' me Ross 
 Douglas is among 'em. That youngster don't more 
 'n git out o' one diffikilty, till he's plump into an- 
 other one. He'll be in the thick o' the rumpus, too, 
 you can jest bet. An' he'll git his everlastin' this 
 time 'r I miss my guess. Dodrot the luck, any- 
 how ! What 're we goin' to do? Jest listen to that, 
 now ! They're havin' it hot an' heavy an' no 
 mistake. We've had fightin' all 'round us an' all 
 over us this mornin'. Me an' you's been in two 
 purty little brushes ourselves. But, dang it, this is 
 worse an' more of it! Say I can't stand it no 
 longer ! Ross is over there in danger. I'm goin' 
 to him, if I have to swim the river to git there. 
 What do you say, Injin? " 
 
 "Ugh! Me go, too," the Wyandot replied 
 calmly.
 
 326 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " Come on, then!" Joe cried recklessly. " It don't 
 make no differ' nee who says we can't go Gener'l 
 Harrison 'r anybody else we'll go any " 
 
 He ended abruptly and fixed his gaze upon the op- 
 posite shore. The Wyandot followed his example. 
 A body of men had emerged from the woods, and 
 were running toward the boats on the shore. Oth- 
 ers quickly followed them and still others. From 
 the fort, it could be seen that many of them were with- 
 out hats or guns. Pell-mell they rushed to the 
 boats, and hastily pushed off. 
 
 "A rout and a slaughter!" General Harrison 
 moaned as he entered .his tent. 
 
 " Here comes a part of 'em, anyhow," Farley mut- 
 tered grimly ; ' ' but it 'pears to be a mighty small 
 part of 'em. Gol-fer-socks ! I only hope Douglas 
 is amongst 'em. If he ain't, he's knocked under fer 
 sure this time. Well, it seems ther' ain't nothin' 
 to do but wait, an' watch, an' pray it does, by 
 ginger !" 
 
 And, folding his arms, the lank and sorrowful- 
 looking woodman sullenly watched the fugitives 
 frantically poling their craft across the river. 
 
 Now all was bustle and confusion within the gar- 
 rison. One of the gates was thrown open ; and 
 soldiers hurried down to the shore, to receive and 
 protect the terrorized fugitives. Soon all were safe 
 within the walls ; but still the hubbub continued. 
 Hundreds crowded around the survivors, to hear the 
 story of their dreadful experience. General Harri- 
 son called one of the surviving officers into his tent,
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 327 
 
 and there learned the particulars of the ambuscade 
 and awful slaughter. 
 
 Colonel Dudley had been tomahawked ; many of 
 the officers were dead. And of the gallant eight 
 hundred less than one-fourth had escaped. It was 
 not war ; it was butchery annihilation ! 
 
 Joe Farley and Bright Wing moved among the sur- 
 vivors, and eagerly scanned each face. But the 
 man they sought was not there. Suddenly the 
 Wyandot uttered a grunt of surprise and ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "Dog Duke !" 
 
 " Where? " Farley demanded sharply. 
 
 Ere the redman could make reply, the hound saw 
 them and bounded toward them. Dropping upon 
 the ground at their feet, he tragically rolled his 
 blood-rimmed eyes and whined beseechingly. His 
 coat was soiled and roughened, and his muzzle was 
 smeared with blood. 
 
 " He's been in the scrimmage, as sure' s you live!" 
 was Joe's muttered comment. ' ' You can see that, 
 Injin. Look at his nose all stained with blood. 
 He's give some 'tarnal Shawnee 'r other red devil 
 his final sickness he has, by Caroline ! But if he's 
 here, his master must be here. I never knowed 'em 
 to be far apart, if they could help it. Le's look 
 ag'in." 
 
 They renewed their search, the dog following 
 them, panting and whining. But they did not 
 find their friend. Joe made numerous inquiries. 
 All the answer he received from anyone was a sad
 
 328 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 shake of the head. Discouraged at last, he mur- 
 mured sadly : 
 
 " 'Tain't no use, Injin. Ross Douglas is among 
 the missin'. An' in this case, that means he's dead ; 
 'cause the whole thing's been a reg'lar butcher's job. 
 I wish the dang Winnebagoes had killed me when 
 they had the notion I do, by Kizzier ! I'm sorry 
 I ever lived to see this day. Jest found him to lose 
 him ag'in an' ferever. We made an awful mis- 
 take, Injin ; we ort to 'ave stayed with him, 'stid 
 o' comin' back here with Cap'n Oliver." 
 
 Bright Wing nodded sadly. 
 
 " Duke, you're a pow'rful smart animal, in more 
 ways 'n one. I wish to glory I could make you 
 understand what I want to know. Wher's y'r 
 master, purp? Wher's Ross Douglas ? " 
 
 The hound lifted his nose and howled dole- 
 fully. 
 
 "Jest as I thought jest as I 'xpected!" Farley 
 said chokingly. " He's dead. That's what you 
 mean, ain't it, purp ? " 
 
 Duke, as if in reply to the question, started 
 toward the gate he had entered, casting backward 
 glances over his shoulder as he went. 
 
 " Le's f oiler him an' see what he wants," Joe 
 whispered. "The poor brute's 'bout as near crazy 
 as we are. ' ' 
 
 On reaching the gate, the dog scratched upon it, 
 telling as well as he could that he desired them to 
 follow him without the walls. 
 
 "Poor critter!" Farley said feelingly. "You
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 329 
 
 want us to go with you an' hunt y'r master, don't 
 you, purp?" 
 
 Duke bayed loudly , and scratched the earth in a 
 frenzy of delight at being understood. 
 
 "Ugh! Duke him want find master," Bright 
 Wing observed sagely. 
 
 Again the dumb brute manifested his joy. 
 
 " 'Tain't no use, purp!" Joe sobbed softly, stoop- 
 ing and patting the dog's head. " If y'r master's 
 over in them woods, he's dead 'r a pris'ner, 
 which is a dang sight worse. If he's dead, we can't 
 do him no good ; an' if he's a pris'ner, we hain't 
 no chance o' rescuin' him this time. The redskins 
 is buzzin' 'round over there thicker'n flies 'round a 
 dead carcass. 'Tain't no use, purp! We'll keep 
 you me an' the Injin will an' treat you well, 
 fer y'r own sake an' y'r master's. But he's gone 
 an' we can't bring him back. Dodrot war, any- 
 how ! It's an awful awful thing ! " 
 
 The homely face underwent a spasm, and the pale 
 eyes were wet. 
 
 Regaining control of himself, he continued mus- 
 ingly : 
 
 ' ' Yit I may be wrong ; I was wrong once be- 
 fore, when I saw him dyin' with my own eyes. He 
 was jest wounded that time an' that may be the 
 trouble now. He may be layin' over there in the 
 woods, lollin' his parched tongue an' moanin' fer a 
 drink o' water. Dogs knows aheap ; an' this purp 
 is tryin' hard to tell us somethin' . Dang-it-all-to- 
 dingnation ! Why can 1 1 a dog talk ? ' '
 
 330 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Then to the Wyandot: 
 
 "Injin, I say we'd better take the dog an' go 
 over there an' look fer Ross Douglas. ' ' 
 
 "Ugh!" assented Bright Wing, explosively. 
 
 At the same time he shouldered his gun, thus in- 
 timating that he was ready to start. 
 
 " Well," Farley continued, " we'll have to git a 
 permit from somebody, I s'pose ; that's 'cordin' to 
 army rules. If we don't, they may take a notion to 
 shoot us fer deserters, 'r fer disobeyin' orders 'r 
 somethin'. I don't know much 'bout such things 
 an' I don't want to. Howsomever, we'll jest go to 
 Ol' Tippecanoe, like we done before, an' git his p'r- 
 mission. Come on, le's not waste a minute. It's 
 noon now." 
 
 A few quick steps brought them to the entrance 
 of the commander's tent. The place was swarming 
 with officers. Around the door was a noisy throng 
 of excited subalterns and privates. Joe and Bright 
 Wing elbowed their way through the mass and 
 gained the doorway, Duke closely following them. 
 
 Just within, were two orderlies on guard. With- 
 out so much as a nod, Farley crowded between them. 
 
 "Stop! You can't come in here," one of the 
 orderlies cried sternly, seizing the woodman by the 
 arm. 
 
 "But I am in," Farley replied, a broad grin 
 puckering his cheeks. 
 
 " Go out instantly!" blustered the orderly, as he 
 whirled the intruder around and shoved him toward 
 the door.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 331 
 
 Farley's ire rose rapidly reached fever heat in 
 an instant. 
 
 "Take y'r hands off o' me, an' git out o' my 
 road, 'r I'll break ev'ry bone in y'r slim, little 
 body ! " he growled savagely. 
 
 The other orderly came to his comrade's assist- 
 ance. The two threw themselves upon the angular 
 giant and sought to eject him from the place. Bright 
 Wing's hand flew to the heavy hatchet in his belt 
 a weapon he had picked up since his arrival at 
 the fort. Duke crouched for a spring and growled 
 sullenly. But Farley needed no help. His heavy 
 fist shot out ; and one of the soldiers dropped to the 
 ground. Quickly turning upon the other and catch- 
 ing him by the collar, Joe threw him half-way 
 across the tent. Then the enraged woodman bel- 
 lowed hoarsely : 
 
 "Take that, you cowardly, little whippersnap- 
 pers ! Jump onto a feller, two at a time, will you ? 
 I'll learn you better manners I will, by the Queen 
 o' Sheby ! Come on ag'in, if you want to I can 
 trounce a dozen like you! I come in here to see Ol' 
 Tippecanoe ; an' I'm a-goin' to see him, 'r die a- try- 
 in'. If you two whinin' babies gits in my road ag'in, 
 I'll pin back y'r ears an' swaller you I will, by 
 Mary Magdalene ! " 
 
 " What's the matter there?" rang out in clear, 
 even tones. 
 
 And General Harrison, rising to his feet, looked 
 toward the scene of disturbance. 
 
 ' ' These men have forced their way in here, and
 
 332 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 we are trying to put them out," explained one of 
 the orderlies, who stood brushing his soiled uni- 
 form and feelingly rubbing his bruised face. 
 
 "Who are they?" the commander impatiently 
 inquired. 
 
 '' I don't know, General " 
 
 Farley strode forward and interrupted : 
 
 " Gener'l Harrison, you ortto know us, whether 
 you do 'r not. Me an' the Injin was with you at 
 Tippecanoe the dog was, too, fer that matter." 
 
 " Ah ! You were with me at Tippecanoe ? " 
 
 "Yes, Gener'l, we was there an' right in the 
 hottest o' the scrimmage." 
 
 " Your names? " 
 
 ' ' Joseph Peregoy Farley an' Bright Wing, the 
 Wyandot. I whacked bulls fer you, clean from 
 Fort Harrison to the Prophet's Town ; an' the Injin 
 an' the houn' scouted with Ross Douglas. Ding-it- 
 all-to " 
 
 Joe's voice was drowned by an explosive roar of 
 laughter from the assembled officers. Even the 
 dignified commander smiled ; and the two orderlies 
 grinned in a sickly manner. When quiet was re- 
 stored, Harrison said quickly : 
 
 ' ' Your names sound familiar. Who was it with 
 whom your red comrade scouted ? " 
 
 "Ross Douglas." 
 
 "Ah ! "- - With animation. " I remember you 
 well now. You are the two men who went to his 
 rescue, after he was captured by the Prophet's 
 band."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 333 
 
 "We are, Gener'l ; an' we've come to ask y'r p'r- 
 mission to go to his help ag'in." 
 
 " Explain." 
 
 Farley did so in his loquacious, rambling way. 
 Deep silence reigned in the tent, as the simple- 
 minded fellow told his moving tale and begged to 
 be allowed to go to the aid of his friend. When he 
 had finished, tears were in many eyes. 
 
 " To whose command do you belong? " Harrison 
 inquired in tremulous tones. 
 
 " We don't belong to nobody's command," was 
 the prompt reply. " We jest got away from the 
 dang Winnebagoes after bein' pris'ners a year an' 
 a half an' come here. We hain't 'nlisted yit. All 
 the duty we've done was to go with Cap'n Oliver, to 
 meet Gener'l Clay." 
 
 ' ' You were Captain Oliver's guides ? " 
 
 "We were, Gener'l." 
 
 "You're brave and true men," the commander 
 said kindly. "You've not hesitated to risk your 
 libertj* and your lives in the service of your coun- 
 try not once, but many times. I appreciate your 
 patriotism and your devotion to your friend. I'm 
 very sorry to know he was in that that dreadful 
 fight across the river. But I can't grant you per- 
 mission to throw away your lives to no purpose. If 
 your friend be dead, you can be of no service to 
 him ; if he be wounded or a prisoner, he has been 
 removed to the British encampment, ere this. You 
 can't aid him. If he be alive, he will be exchanged 
 in due time. Now I must bid you good-morning
 
 334 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 I'm very busy. But, believe me, I sympathize 
 with you more than you know. I remember your 
 friend, and grieve to know that such misfortune 
 has befallen him. Good morning." 
 
 Farley and Bright Wing shook hands with the 
 commander and quietly withdrew, followed by the 
 pitying glances of the officers. 
 
 On reaching the open air, Joe heaved a deep sigh 
 and remarked : 
 
 "Well, that settles it, Injin ; we can't go. An' 
 I wouldn't wonder Ol' Tippecanoe's right, after all. 
 We'd only lose our scalps by goin' an' do no good. 
 The Gener'l used us mighty kind, anyhow." 
 
 "Ugh!" rumbled up from the Wyandot's deep 
 chest. ' ' Tippecanoe him all much good heart 
 no bad." 
 
 "Well," Farley sighed in return, " as I said be- 
 fore, all we can do is to wait an' watch, an' hope an' 
 pray. L,e's go an' hunt somethin' to eat. I'm 
 pow'rful hungry ; an' the purp must be 'bout starved. 
 This life's a kind o' tangled snarl anyhow it is, 'r 
 my name ain't Joe Farley ! " 
 
 On all sides the battle was ended. The heavy 
 guns had ceased to belch flame ; the querulous 
 voices of the rifles were silent. The powder smoke 
 had lifted and disappeared ; the groans of the 
 wounded and dying no longer fell upon the ear. 
 The sun shone brightly ; and the birds in the adja- 
 cent forest sang gleefully. 
 
 Shortly after noon, a small boat was seen crossing 
 the river. In the stern sat a British officer bearing
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 335 
 
 a flag of truce. One of General Harrison's aides met 
 him at the landing, and inquired : 
 
 " Who are you, and why do you come? " 
 
 "I'm Major Chambers of his Majesty's service," 
 was the reply ; " and I'm sent by General Proctor, 
 to demand the surrender of this fort." 
 
 "You'll have your labor for your pains," an- 
 swered the aide. " However, I'll blindfold you 
 and conduct you to General Harrison. ' ' 
 
 Ushered into the American commander's presence, 
 Major Chambers said : 
 
 ' ' General Proctor has directed me to demand the 
 surrender of this post. He wishes to spare the ef- 
 fusion of blood. ' ' 
 
 General Harrison smiled blandly, as he replied : 
 
 ' ' The demand under present circumstances is 
 most extraordinary. As General Proctor didn't 
 send me a summons to surrender, on his first ar- 
 rival, I had supposed that he believed me determined 
 to do my duty. His present message indicates an 
 opinion of me that I'm at a loss to account for." 
 
 Major Chambers' face flushed as he hastened to 
 say : 
 
 " General Proctor could never think of saying 
 anything to wound your feelings, sir. The char- 
 acter of General Harrison, as an officer, is well 
 known. General Proctor's force is very respect- 
 able, and there is with him a larger body of Indians 
 than has ever before been embodied." 
 
 General Harrison drew himself stiffly erect. His 
 keen eyes flashed as he answered :
 
 336 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' I believe I have a very correct idea of General 
 Proctor's force ; and it is not such as to create the 
 least apprehension for the result of the contest, 
 whatever shape he may be pleased hereafter to give 
 to it. Assure the General, however, that he will 
 never have this post surrendered to him, upon any 
 terms. Should it fall into his hands, it will be in a 
 manner calculated to do him more honor, and give 
 him larger claims upon the gratitude of his govern- 
 ment, than any capitulation could possibly do." 
 
 Major Chambers did not push the matter further, 
 but, after an arrangement for an exchange of prison- 
 ers had been made, bowed and withdrew. 
 
 The afternoon passed quietly ; hostilities were 
 not renewed. No further communication was held 
 between the opposing forces ; and at nightfall 
 Bright Wing and Farley had heard nothing of their 
 absent friend.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WHBN Colonel Dudley disembarked his men 
 upon the northern bank of the Maumee, 
 Ross Douglas was among them. It was he 
 who led the way toward the British batteries his 
 faithful four-footed friend at his side. 
 
 When the charge was ordered, he was among the 
 officers who headed the attacking columns, and his 
 gun was among the first discharged. With a cheer, 
 he clubbed his empty rifle and helped to put the 
 English gunners to rout. It was an easy victory ; 
 the startled and terrorized artillerymen did not wait 
 to fire a gun, but precipitately retreated toward 
 their encampment down the river. 
 
 As soon as he saw the British in full flight and 
 the Americans possessed of the batteries, Ross 
 called Duke to him and seated himself upon a gun- 
 carriage. He felt that the fight was over ; and he 
 was ready as soon as the cannon should be spiked 
 to return to the boats and cross over to the 
 fort. 
 
 At that moment, victory was with Colonel Dudley 
 and his men. But as has been explained the 
 savages concealed in the woods commenced to pour 
 a withering fusillade into the ranks of the militia 
 occupying the open ground surrounding the batter- 
 22 (337)
 
 338 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ies. Dudley should have effected the purpose for 
 which he had come and immediately re-embarked ; 
 but he hesitated and was lost. The impulsive 
 Kentuckians grew restless under the hot fire, and, 
 without waiting for orders, began an impetuous and 
 disorderly advance upon their hidden foes. Their 
 officers sought to restrain them, but in vain. They 
 had tasted victory, and were intoxicated. With 
 cheers of exultation and yells of defiance, they 
 broke the leash of discipline and madly charged the 
 enemy. 
 
 Knowing well what the inevitable outcome of the 
 rash attack would be, Douglas leaped to his feet, 
 hastened to Colonel Dudley's side, and shouted ve- 
 hemently : 
 
 "For heaven's sake, call a retreat, Colonel! 
 Your men will fall into an ambush and be cut to 
 pieces. It's an old trick as old as Indian war- 
 fare. Act act at once ! " 
 
 Ross's face was flushed ; his eyes were shining. 
 The commanding officer smiled pityingly, as he said: 
 
 ' ' You're exciting yourself over nothing, young 
 man. It is a mere skirmish with the savages ; 
 there will be no general engagement. As soon as 
 my men have driven the enemy into the depths 
 of the forest, they will return of their own accord. ' ' 
 
 Douglas turned pale with suppressed fury. 
 
 " I tell you it's an ambush, Colonel Dudley! " he 
 exclaimed. " Recall your men, if you would not 
 see them annihilated ! ' ' 
 
 Dudley returned coldly :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET . 339 
 
 ' ' My youthful guide, I don't need your advice. 
 / am in command ' ' 
 
 He broke off suddenly and, fixing his eyes upon 
 the edge of the forest where the militiamen were 
 fast disappearing, he muttered : 
 
 "They are making a concerted charge. I fear 
 myself they may venture too far and be drawn into 
 a trap. I'll order a retreat immediately." 
 
 He hurried away to put his tardy resolve into 
 execution. But it was too late ; the mischief was 
 done. Elated with the success of their first en- 
 counter, the Kentuckians refused to obey the com- 
 mand to retire to the boats. Colonel Dudley 
 stormed and fumed ; inferior officers threatened and 
 swore. It availed nothing. The regiment had lost 
 all discipline had become an enraged mob. L,ike 
 a mad steed, it took the bit and dashed forward to 
 destruction. 
 
 Douglas hurried from one place to another, warn- 
 ing the men of the ambuscade into which they were 
 pushing, and beseeching them to return to the boats 
 while there was yet time. His words fell upon 
 deaf ears. Seeing at last that his countrymen had 
 lost all reason were drunk on the wine of success 
 he forced his way to the front, and fought like a 
 demon. Duke kept at his master's side. Man and 
 dog were in the thick of the fray. The hound's 
 hoarse growl of rage sent terror to the heart of 
 more than one dusky brave, and his gleaming fangs 
 cut short more than one exultant war-whoop. Ross 
 loaded and fired his gun with a speed and accuracy
 
 340 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 born of years of practice. The smoke of battle 
 was in his nostrils ; the lust of slaughter was in 
 his brain. The savages slowly retreated until they 
 reached a place suited to their tactics. There they 
 promptly rallied and sought to outflank the Ameri- 
 cans. The battle raged furiously on all sides. 
 British re-enforcements arrived upon the scene. Re- 
 treat became an impossibility. 
 
 Douglas became separated from his comrades 
 but he fought on. His ammunition exhausted, he 
 clubbed his rifle and dealt blow after blow at the 
 heads of his red assailants. He felt his strength 
 gradually failing, but he set his teeth and grimly 
 resolved to die fighting. His faithful dog was no 
 longer at his side ; he was alone with his enemies. 
 And death was leering at him face to face. 
 
 "Fleet Foot! Fleet Foot! Kill him! Kill 
 him!" 
 
 The words reached the young man's ears. In- 
 stantly he understood why he had been singled 
 out from his companions, why so many red 
 fiends beset him. Among his foes, were the war- 
 riors who had tried to take his life at the Miami 
 village upon the Mississinewa. The knowledge 
 maddened him renewed his energies. He re- 
 solved they should not have the pleasure of taking 
 him captive of torturing him. Dropping his gun, 
 he drew his knife, meaning to resist as long as 
 breath and blood were his. But at that moment 
 the tide of battle surged toward him around him ; 
 and his assailants were swept aside.
 
 341 
 
 He drew a deep breath and looked around. The 
 American columns were broken scattered. The 
 attacking army had become a fleeing rabble, in 
 which each man was seeking his own safety. 
 Realizing that the battle was lost, that there was no 
 hope of rallying the flying militiamen, Ross groaned 
 aloud : 
 
 ' ' My God ! What a defeat what a disgrace ! ' ' 
 
 Then he picked up his rifle and set out after the 
 fugitives. Scarcely had he taken ten steps, how- 
 ever, when clamorous yells assailed his ears and he 
 saw that his escape toward the river was cut off by 
 his old enemies. Quickly he whirled about and ran 
 at full speed in the opposite direction, not heeding 
 nor caring whither his course would take him. 
 For a time he heard the heavy breathing and 
 panted ejaculations of his pursuers. But gradually 
 those sounds died out. Then all was silence he 
 was alone in the deep woods. 
 
 He dropped upon the ground and gasped for 
 breath. His brain swam ; his throat was on fire. 
 Red and green lights flashed before his eyes; and 
 rills of sweat trickled down his powder-stained face. 
 He had received a knife thrust in the right arm 
 and a tomahawk cut in the left shoulder. These 
 superficial wounds had bled freely and saturated 
 his hunting-shirt. He was completely exhausted. 
 
 For several minutes, he lay breathing hard and 
 listening for the footfalls of his pursuers. But the 
 stillness was broken only by his own labored respi- 
 ration and the querulous twitter of birds among the
 
 342 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 boughs above him. He began to recover his wind. 
 His limbs ceased to tremble ; he felt his strength 
 returning. But his thirst was tormenting ; he 
 must have water. With some difficulty he got 
 upon his feet and looked about him. The dense, 
 leafless wood stretched away on all sides as far as 
 he could see. Near him was a pool of dark-colored 
 water stained with the ooze of the forest. It 
 was warm and mawkish ; but he drank of it with 
 avidity. 
 
 " There ! " he panted, " I feel much better. Now 
 I must find a hiding-place ; the woods is swarm- 
 ing with my foes. When night comes I'll make 
 my way to the shore, swim the river, and attempt 
 to gain the fort. What an awful day's work this 
 has been hundreds dead, hundreds captured ! " 
 
 Then, after a pause : 
 
 " But I must get my bearings. I<et me see. 
 Where's the sun? I'm far back of the battle- 
 ground, and farther down the river. Fort Miami 
 lies between me and Fort Meigs. I'll bear to 
 the right of it, and strike the stream at a point be- 
 tween the scene of to-day's battle and the British 
 encampment. But I must hide until nightfall it 
 wouldn't be safe to make the attempt sooner. 
 Well, I'm more fortunate than most of my rash 
 comrades ; I'm yet alive and free. My wounds 
 pain me some, but they're not of a serious char- 
 acter. If I had something to eat, I should be all 
 right. I wonder what has become of Duke. 
 Faithful old fellow ! No doubt he has been killed ;
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 343 
 
 else he would be at my side. No, " Reflect- 
 ively, " he may have escaped and made his way to 
 Fort Meigs, with the few survivors. With the smell 
 of blood in his nostrils, he wouldn't be able to fol- 
 low my trail. Well, I'll hide myself and rest until 
 dark. Then for Fort Meigs and safety! " 
 
 Concealing his trail as well as he could, he 
 pushed farther into the woods, leaving the river be- 
 hind him. At last he lay down by a log and, hug- 
 ging his empty rifle to his breast, fell asleep. 
 When he awoke, the sun was setting and the forest 
 was aflame with rosy light. Arising, he stretched 
 his stiffened limbs and carefully examined his 
 wounds. 
 
 "Mere scratches," he muttered. "But I'm 
 weak from fasting and loss of blood. Then, too, 
 I have no arms but an empty gun and a knife. I 
 shouldn't like to encounter a score of savages just 
 now." And he smiled grimly. "But it'll soon 
 be dark. I'll move toward the river." 
 
 Shouldering his rifle, he set out, walking briskly 
 in spite of pain and weakness. The sun went 
 down ; the rosy light began to pale and fade. At 
 last he stopped suddenly. 
 
 " I'm nearing the river. Perhaps I'd better 
 wait until it's darker. But then I'm afraid I 
 should run into danger without seeing it. What's 
 best? Ah!" 
 
 He uttered the exclamation with vexation and 
 disappointment, and sprang behind a tree. In the 
 dusky twilight he perceived a cloaked figure mov-
 
 344 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ing toward him. Loosening the knife in his belt, 
 he softly placed his gun against the tree trunk and 
 peeped from his place of concealment. The obscure 
 figure was coming on, slowly, hesitatingly. Its 
 cautious footfalls fell upon his ear. He drew 
 his knife and panted with suppressed excitement. 
 Nearer and nearer to his hiding-place, the figure 
 drew, its head bent low over a bundle it carried in 
 its arms. 
 
 Douglas breathed hard and, gripping his knife 
 firmly, held it ready for instant use. Then he made 
 the discovery that the approaching personage was 
 a woman an Indian squaw, probably. For a 
 moment he debated what he should do. Could he 
 kill a defenseless female, even to assure his own 
 safety ? His soul sickened at the thought. Quickly 
 he determined on a more humane course of action. 
 He would confront the squaw. Should she seek to 
 give an alarm, he would seize and overpower her. 
 Then he would choke her into silence and carry her 
 from the spot. 
 
 Acting upon this resolve, he boldly stepped from 
 his place of concealment and coughed to attract the 
 woman's attention. Flinging up her head, she ut- 
 tered a half-suppressed scream and turned to flee. 
 Ross sprang forward and threw his arms around 
 her. She struggled to escape, but did not cry out. 
 
 The cloak fell from her shoulders. In the dim 
 twilight he saw that she was a white woman, and 
 that she held a small child in her arms. Instantly 
 releasing her, he stammered:
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 345 
 
 "My good woman, I beg a thousand pardons. 
 In the gloom I mistook you for a squaw, and, fear- 
 ing that you might raise an alarm " 
 
 He broke off and recoiled a step, a sharp excla- 
 mation upon his lips. The woman had lifted a wan 
 face to his ; and by the tremulous light of the dying 
 twilight, he had recognized her. 
 
 "Amy ! " he gasped. 
 
 " Ross ! " she whispered hoarsely, leaning against 
 a tree for support and closely hugging the child to 
 her breast. 
 
 A short time they stood there without uttering 
 another word, each staring wildly at the other's 
 shadowy form and features each hearing the 
 other's labored breathing. Ross was the first to re- 
 gain the power of speech. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" he asked in a 
 strange, altered voice. 
 
 "Trying to escape from a bondage worse than 
 death !" she replied in hard, bitter tones in which 
 there was no hint of tears. 
 
 ' ' You you've been a prisoner among the 
 Indians?" he inquired in kinder accents. 
 
 "Yes; but that isn't what I mean," she 
 answered in a hopeless voice. 
 
 Again both were silent. The baby in her arms 
 commenced to fret. She soothed and patted it to 
 sleep softly, sadly crooning to it. By this time, 
 the lingering twilight had faded out ; it was quite 
 dark in the forest. Advancing to her side, Doug- 
 las laid his hand upon her arm and began :
 
 346 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' Amy Larkin ' ' 
 
 ' ' Amy Hilliard ! ' ' she interrupted shrilly. 
 
 He drew back as though a venomous insect had 
 stung him. Her voice grated harshly upon his 
 nerves. To his overwrought imagination, she 
 seemed a lost soul mocking at its own misery. 
 Taking her by the arm, he remarked quietly : 
 
 "You're tired. There's no use in your stand- 
 ing. Seat yourself upon this log. ' ' 
 
 Silently she obeyed, trembling in every limb. 
 Picking up her cloak, he placed it around her 
 shoulders. His act of kindness softened her feel- 
 ings ; and her voice was tremulous as she said 
 simply : 
 
 "Thank you!" 
 
 He stood looking down upon her, conflicting 
 thoughts and emotions rioting in his brain. At last 
 he murmured huskily : 
 
 "And you are Amy Larkin no longer you are 
 Amy Hilliard." 
 
 "Yes, I'm Amy Hilliard." Her voice again 
 hard and bitter. "I must bear the hated name to 
 my grave." 
 
 "You are George Hilliard's wife. " 
 
 "lam." 
 
 Her words were scarcely audible. 
 
 "And the child?" 
 
 "Is mine." 
 
 "And his?" 
 
 ' ' Yes. I am his wife ; this is our 
 child ! "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 347 
 
 Each word fell separately, like a ringing brazen 
 coin. Then she screamed excitedly : 
 
 ' ' But my innocent child shall never blush for its 
 father it shall never know him ! I hate him I 
 loathe him ! The brute the coward the mur- 
 derer ! Oh ! that I had never seen him ' ' 
 
 "Sh!" he cautioned. "You're talking too 
 loud. Remember we are surrounded by sharp- 
 eared, lynx-eyed enemies. Where were you go- 
 ing what were you trying to do, when I met 
 you?" 
 
 "Trying to escape," she panted in a strident 
 whisper. 
 
 "Softlyl" he again cautioned. "From whom 
 were you trying to escape ? " 
 
 ' ' From my captors, the Indians at Fort Miami 
 and from George Milliard. " 
 
 " I can't understand," he replied wonderingly. 
 "Is your your husband among the British, at 
 their encampment just below here ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 ' ' Then you and the child must return to him, " 
 Ross answered firmly, decidedly. 
 
 "Never!" she hissed through her set teeth. 
 "We'll find a grave in the river first. I hate 
 him, I tell you I despise and loathe him!" 
 Then pleadingly: "Oh, Ross Douglas! If one 
 spark of the old love for me yet burns in your 
 bosom, save me save me ! " 
 
 "But what can I do?" he asked in perplexity. 
 ' ' You are his wife the child is his ' '
 
 348 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "Save me ! " she interrupted. "I'm trying to 
 reach the fort across the river. You belong there 
 I know you do. Take me and my baby with 
 you please do ! " 
 
 "But I cannot, Amy," he replied chokingly. 
 ' ' You are another man's wife ; I must not steal you 
 away from him. Then, the fort is closely invested ; 
 I don't know that I shall be able to reach it my- 
 self alone and unhampered. My gun is empty 
 I am practically unarmed. I'm weak from loss of 
 blood, fasting, and excessive exertion. No, I can't 
 take you with me ; the risk is too great. You 
 must return to Fort Miami " 
 
 "That I will never do!" she answered de- 
 terminedly. ' ' If you leave me here, I'll drown 
 myself and my babe in the river. Better a thousand 
 miserable deaths than again to fall into that man's 
 power ! " 
 
 Douglas strode up and down in front of her. 
 
 "What am I to do ?" he asked himself. " How 
 perverse is fate ! I have found her at last but lost 
 her forever. Poor girl ! She is innocent ; she 
 was forced into the hateful marriage, no doubt. But 
 I cannot love another's wife. If I abandon her, she 
 will destroy herself and her child. She means what 
 she says. If I take them with me, I shall risk 
 their lives and my own. And Fort Meigs is no 
 place for her. It may fall into the hands of the 
 British. In that case, the savages will massacre 
 every person within the walls. I must do one of 
 two things take, her with me or "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 349 
 
 Stopping suddenly, he faced his companion and 
 said in earnest tones : 
 
 "I've decided to take you and your child with 
 me to attempt to conduct you to Fort Meigs, in 
 safety. I must leave you for a short time, however, 
 to try to find some way of crossing the river. Re- 
 main here quietly until I return for you. I'll be 
 gone but a few minutes." 
 
 " Ross," she faltered, " you you will not desert 
 me " 
 
 " Amy," he cried in a sharp whisper, "did I ever 
 desert you ever deceive you? " 
 
 Bursting into tears, she buried her face in the 
 folds of the shawl that enveloped her child, and 
 moaned brokenly : 
 
 ' ' No no ! You were always true al- 
 ways " 
 
 He left her softly sobbing, and made his way 
 toward the river. Every few yards he stopped, 
 peered into the surrounding darkness, and listened 
 intently. But he saw or heard nothing of an 
 alarming nature. Presently he emerged from the 
 gloomy woods and stood upon the sloping bank of 
 the stream. Above him, the black vault was 
 studded with stars ; beneath him, the dark water 
 was softly lapping upon the sandy beach. Down 
 the stream, he discovered the flaring fires of the 
 British encampment ; and up the river and on 
 the opposite side the twinkling lights of Fort 
 Meigs. The confused, indistinct murmur of voices 
 in the distance was borne upon the evening breeze.
 
 350 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Then a dog's deep, mournful bay fell upon the 
 listener's ear. 
 
 " Duke ! " he muttered. "He has escaped the 
 general carnage he's at the fort. Farley and 
 Bright Wing will care for him, if I lose my life." 
 
 Cautiously he began a search along the shore, for 
 some means of crossing the stream. The soft dip 
 of a paddle came to his ear. Silently retreating to 
 some overhanging bushes, he waited, watched, and 
 listened. The sound of the paddle became more and 
 more distinct. Out of the shadows, emerged a 
 small craft containing a single occupant. It rapidly 
 approached the place where Douglas stood. The 
 young man drew his knife and, gently parting the 
 bushes, peered forth. The canoeman was a stal- 
 wart Indian. The next moment, the light vessel 
 grated upon the sands and the unwary paddler 
 sprang ashore. Hardly had his feet touched the 
 earth, ere he sank in his tracks, a corpse, with 
 Douglas's keen knife buried in his heart. 
 
 "It's little short of murder," muttered the 
 young scout ; ' ' but there was no alternative. One 
 of us had to die." 
 
 Quickly stooping, he rolled the body of his fallen 
 foe into the river. Drawing the canoe ashore and 
 secreting it among the bushes, he rapidly retraced 
 his steps to Amy Hilliard and her child. He found 
 her still seated upon the log, her face buried in the 
 folds of the baby's shawl. Touching her upon the 
 shoulder, he said simply : 
 
 " I've found a boat. Come. "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET $$t 
 
 Without a word, she arose. Picking up his 
 empty gun, he led the way toward the river. She 
 kept close at his heels, panting with fear and excite- 
 ment. Like two silent specters, they threaded 
 the intricate maze of the forest. On reaching 
 the edge of the wood, he remarked in a cautious 
 whisper : 
 
 " Now comes the most dangerous part of our 
 journey. Whatever happens, you must preserve 
 perfect silence. Step carefully a breaking twig 
 may bring a dozen warriors upon us. Keep close 
 to me and be ready to obey my orders. If you 
 see me drop to the ground, do likewise." 
 
 She touched his arm, in token that she understood 
 and would obey, but said nothing. Down the bank, 
 and through the tangled bushes along the shore, 
 they slowly made their way. Skillfully dragging 
 the canoe from its hiding-place and launching it, 
 he breathed in her ear : 
 
 " I,et me hold the child while you get in." 
 
 " But it may cry," she whispered in reply. 
 
 "True," he answered. "Here let me assist 
 you. Seat yourself in the bottom. That's right." 
 Then placing his rifle in the bow of the craft. 
 ' ' Now lay the baby in your lap, and take this 
 paddle." 
 
 "What do you mean?" sfce asked, alarm in 
 her whispered tone. 
 
 "The vessel is too light to carry all of us," he 
 answered quietly, but firmly. "You must paddle 
 to the opposite shore. I'll turn you around and
 
 352 
 
 start you. Don't lose your head and you'll 
 land safely." 
 
 " But you? " she inquired, almost inaudibly. 
 
 " I'll swim after you. Off you go." 
 
 Watching her until she disappeared in the dark- 
 less, he stealthily dropped into the water and 
 struck out in the wake of the frail boat. A few 
 minutes later he stood upon the other shore. His 
 garments were dripping and his teeth were chatter- 
 ing from the chill of the water. He looked about 
 him but saw nothing of the canoe or its occupants. 
 
 "Amy," he called softly. 
 
 But he received no reply. 
 
 " Amy," he repeated, a little louder than before* 
 
 Still no answer. 
 
 ' ' What can have become of her ? " he muttered in 
 deep vexation and alarm. " She should have landed 
 near this point. Is it possible that the canoe has 
 capsized, or that other harm has befallen her ? Ah ! 
 she may have lost her paddle she may be drifting 
 with the current. ' ' 
 
 He ran down the stream, peering into the gloom 
 that overhung the water as he went. But he saw 
 nothing of her or of the boat. Many times he 
 called her name, as loudly as he dared. No answer- 
 ing voice came to him. At last he turned and 
 swiftly retraced his steps. He had just reached 
 the point where he had come ashore, when he dis- 
 covered a dark object drifting a few yards from the 
 beach. It was an empty canoe. In it was his own 
 gun, but no sign of the woman or child.
 
 'THE SIGN OP THE PROPtfET 353 
 
 " Lost lost ! " he groaned, wringing his hands. 
 ' ' Poor Amy ! " And the tears trickled down his 
 cheeks. " She's drowned she and her baby are 
 sleeping at the bottom of the treacherous river. 
 No ! There is no water in the canoe, and my gun is 
 where I placed it. The frail craft did not capsize. 
 Some harm must have befallen her, just as she 
 reached land ere she could secure the vessel. " 
 
 Snatching up his gun, he set off at full speed. He 
 had gone but a short distance, when he stopped and 
 sharply caught his breath. A cloaked figure was 
 hurrying toward him. It was the woman he sought. 
 
 "Amy, it's you thank God ! " he ejaculated 
 fervently, as she reached his side. "I've been 
 searching for you. I discovered the drifting canoe 
 and, for a moment, thought you were drowned. 
 Where have you been ? ' ' 
 
 She was greatly excited. Abject terror was in 
 her voice, as she whispered in reply : 
 
 "I have been hiding. I heard you calling me, 
 but didn't dare to answer. Just as I stepped from 
 the canoe, a number of Indians and a white man came 
 down the bank toward me. I quickly cast the boat 
 adrift and hid myself among some brush. There I 
 lay quaking with fear, for oh, God ! the white 
 man was George Hilliard. They stood near me 
 and talked of my escape. They were searching for 
 me. I could hear his hateful voice could hear 
 every word he said. I almost smothered my baby ; 
 I was so afraid it would cry and betray my presence. 
 At last they left and went farther up the stream. 
 23
 
 354 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Then I heard you calling me, but was afraid to 
 answer. Oh, Ross Ross ! Do save me from 
 that man ! If you find you cannot, kill me and my 
 baby in God's name, do!" 
 
 . "There there!" he said soothingly. "I'll 
 save you I'll get you to the fort. Let me sup- 
 port you. You can hardly stand. Come." 
 
 They scrambled up the bank and made a narrow 
 detour to the left, to avoid the party she had seen. 
 A half hour later, Douglas had skillfully piloted his 
 companion through the savages encircling the fort, 
 and was thundering at one of the gates for admis- 
 sion.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ON GAINING entrance to the fort, Ross placed 
 Amy and her child in care of some refugees, 
 who occupied a large tent at the eastern end of 
 the inclosure, immediately behind the grand traverse, 
 and went to hunt his comrades. He found them at 
 a camp-fire, around which a number of lolling sol- 
 diers were talking and smoking. 
 
 Duke was the first to note the presence of his 
 master ; and, with a yelp of joy, sprang to meet him. 
 Bright Wing uttered a guttural exclamation, which 
 was smothered by Farley's lusty shout : 
 
 " Ross Douglas 'r my name ain't Joe Farley ! 
 Alive an' a-livin' but wetter'n a drownded mus'- 
 rat an' lookin' paler 'n a piller-case ! Youngster, 
 you've been in the dangedest scrimmage that ever 
 was anybody can see that. How in the name o' 
 all the purty women in the universe, did you ever git 
 out o' that yaller-jackets' nest, an' make y'r way 
 here ? Set down an' tell us all 'bout it." 
 
 Douglas dropped upon the ground and, affection- 
 ately patting Duke's head, replied wearily : 
 
 " I'm thoroughly exhausted, Joe. Get me some- 
 thing to eat." 
 
 " That's it! " cried one of the soldiers. " Git y'r 
 comrade somethin' to eat, Limber Tongue. He's 
 'bout played out." 
 
 (355)
 
 3$6 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' Dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! ' ' grumbled Joe. ' ' I 
 never did have no sense! The idee o' askin' a man, 
 who hain't had a bite to eat sence last night at this 
 time, to set down an' spin yarns. I've a notion to 
 pull my larripin' tongue out by the roots I have, 
 by Molly ! An' you've got some scratches, too, 
 Ross Douglas ; an' wher' you ain't pale, you're 
 blacker'n a nigger with powder smoke, an' redder'n 
 an Injin with blood. Set there an' rest an' dry y'r 
 duds. I'll have you somethin', in a jiffy, that'll 
 make you feel better I will, by ginger ! " 
 
 Still muttering to himself, of his own shortcom- 
 ings, Farley left the group around the fire. When 
 he returned a few minutes later, he cried exultingly : 
 
 "Along an' limber tongue maybe a nuisance 
 most o' the time, but once in a while it comes 
 mighty handy. Jest now mine helped me to p'r- 
 suade Ol' Tippecanoe to divide his supper with you, 
 Ross Douglas ' ' 
 
 ' ' What ! ' ' Douglas interrupted sternly. ' ' Surely, 
 Joe, you didn't go to the commander and ask him 
 for food for me." 
 
 " Surely I did," Farley replied coolly. 
 
 The soldiers burst into roars of laughter. Ross's 
 face flushed angrily. But Farley continued naively: 
 
 "You see, it was jest like this. You had to have 
 somethin' to eat an' you needed it quick. Well, 
 our suppers was over no chance fer you there. I 
 could 'ave gone to the commissary an' got some raw 
 grub, but it would 'ave took time to cook it. In 
 the meantime you was starvin'. So thinks I, 'I'll
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 357 
 
 jest go to Ol' Tippecanoe I'm purty well ac- 
 quainted with him by this time, an' he's probably 
 at supper an' ask him to divide his supper with 
 Ross Douglas.' So that's what I done. An' here's 
 y'r grub steamin' hot an' calkerlated to make 
 you feel like a fightin' cock." 
 
 And with the words, Farley triumphantly spread 
 the food upon the ground before his exhausted 
 friend. 
 
 " There's hot coffee," he said, " an' hot pone, an' 
 hot meat. They'll warm up y'r in'ards an' limber 
 up y'r tongue. Fall to now 'fore the things gits 
 cold." 
 
 Douglas required no urging. He was trembling 
 with hunger and fatigue ; he felt as though he 
 should faint, if he fasted much longer. With 
 evident satisfaction, Farley and Bright Wing 
 silently watched him as he ate. Duke rested his 
 nose upon his master's knee and, heaving a sigh of 
 content, drowsily closed his great eyes. The sol- 
 diers knocked the ashes from their pipes and, one 
 by one, curled up in their blankets and fell asleep. 
 When Ross had finished, he stretched his feet to the 
 fire and, turning to Farley, asked smilingly : 
 
 ' ' What did General Harrison say when you made 
 a demand upon him, for a share of his supper for 
 me? " 
 
 ' ' Said it ' forded him great pleasure to do so a 
 pleasure 'xceeded only by the pleasure he felt in 
 knowin' you was still alive an' able to eat. Then 
 he told me to say to you to call at his quarters, in
 
 358 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 the mornin'; that he wanted to meet you ag'in, an' 
 that ther' was a subject demandin' your attention 
 'r words to that effect." 
 
 A pleased expression rested upon Douglas's 
 powder-stained face, as he said : 
 
 "And I shall be delighted to meet my old com- 
 mander again. He's one of nature's gentlemen." 
 
 Then he dreamily stared into the red embers, and 
 was silent. 
 
 "Ix>ok here !" Joe cried in a testy tone. " Don't 
 be goin' back into the past an' dreamin' 'bout 
 things that can never be, Ross Douglas. Me an' 
 Bright Wing wants to hear 'bout how you sarcum- 
 vented the redskins an' got here to the fort. Don't 
 we, Injin?" 
 
 The Wyandot lifted his head from between his 
 knees and answered : 
 
 "Ugh! Want know 'bout fight heap much, 
 all, everything." 
 
 Douglas smiled wearily and began his narrative. 
 As he proceeded with his graphic description of the 
 battle and the incidents and adventures following it, 
 his interested comrades drew closer to him and lis- 
 tened with eager attention, to every word that fell 
 from his lips. The camp-fires died down ; the 
 garrison was wrapped in silence and darkness. 
 Nothing broke the stillness but Douglas's whispered 
 tones, the heavy breathing of the sleeping soldiers, 
 and the muffled footfalls of the sentries pacing their 
 beats about the walls. At last Ross closed his re- 
 cital, and yawningly remarked :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 359 
 
 " I've told you all. Now let's lie down to 
 rest ; my eyes are so heavy that I caii hardly keep 
 them open." 
 
 "An' no wonder," Farley murmured. "Ross, 
 you've been through a heap to-day a dang sight! 
 But jest let me ask you one question. Now you've 
 found ol' Sam Larkin's gal an' she's a wife an' a 
 mother what' re you goin' to do? " 
 
 "Save her from the brute who has ruined her 
 life," Douglas replied fiercely. 
 
 " That's all right," Joe persisted. "But how're 
 you goin' to do it ? " 
 
 " I don't know yet," Douglas answered. " I've 
 not learned what she desires." 
 
 "Well, you can't marry her, of course." 
 
 "What nonsense you're talking, Joe!" Ross 
 cried sharply. "She's the wife of another. Let's 
 drop the subject." 
 
 "Ugh! No Fleet Foot's squaw fat paleface's 
 squaw," grunted Bright Wing sagely. 
 
 " An' Fleet Foot takes it mighty cool, too," Farley 
 muttered to himself. " 'Pears to me he'sthinkin' a 
 heap more 'bout the little red-headed gal he hain't 
 found, than he is 'bout this gal he has found. But 
 I don't blame him. Amy parkin's played him false 
 she wan r t forced into no marriage. You can't 
 fool me on women folks. Hain't I had the 'xperi- 
 ence, I'd like to know? Oh, gosh, yes ! " 
 
 The three rolled over upon the ground, and two of 
 them were soon snoring loudly. But Ross did not 
 fall asleep so readily. For an hour or more, he lay
 
 360 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 with closed lids thinking thinking. At last, how- 
 ever, outraged nature asserted itself. 
 
 Early the next morning, the young scout managed 
 to procure enough water to remove the stains of 
 battle from his person. After he had washed him- 
 self, dressed his slight wounds, and eaten his break- 
 fast, he went to call upon General Harrison. 
 
 The commander's seamed visage was alight with 
 genuine pleasure, as he took Ross by the hand and 
 led him to a seat. Closely scanning his caller's 
 face, the old warrior remarked : 
 
 "Douglas, I'm delighted to see you to again 
 grasp your hand. I didn't know you were with 
 General Clay's command ; that you were in yester- 
 day's terrible battle" the commander's careworn 
 features twitched "until your two old comrades 
 came to me and asked permission to go to your aid. " 
 
 " Did they do that? " Ross quickly inquired. 
 
 "Yes, indeed. Didn't they tell you ? " 
 
 Douglas shook his head ; tears were in his eyes. 
 
 "They're loyal fellows," Harrison continued 
 feelingly ; " they would give their lives for you, at 
 any time." 
 
 "I know," Douglas answered chokingly. " I've 
 four good friends, at least, General Harrison 
 yourself, my two old comrades, and my dog. I've 
 had a varied experience in the last eighteen 
 months. I've endured much " 
 
 "And all for your country's sake," the general 
 interrupted. ' ' You have suffered mentally and 
 physically. "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 361 
 
 Douglas remained silent and Harrison contin- 
 ued : 
 
 ' 'And the worst is not come. But we'll go on 
 to the glorious end." 
 
 ' ' Yes, " was the firm reply. 
 
 " Yes," the commander went on," all of us have 
 made sacrifices for home and country. But oppo- 
 sition will not appal us ; defeat will not discourage 
 us. We are Americans. This exacting service, with 
 its suspense its disappointments, is calculated 
 to discourage and unnerve. But, pshaw ! " with 
 a light laugh "of what am I talking? We're 
 American patriots we can stand anything." 
 
 Then with animation : 
 
 "But I didn't bring you here to talk of such 
 things. During yesterday's sorties we took a num- 
 ber of prisoners British regulars, Canadian 
 militiamen, and Indians. At present they're con- 
 fined in the blockhouses ; and among those in the 
 blockhouse at the southeastern angle of the fortifi- 
 cation, is an old acquaintance of yours." 
 
 ' ' An acquaintance of mine ? ' ' Douglas remarked 
 wonderingly. 
 
 ' ' Yes a man both of us have good reason to 
 remember. ' ' 
 
 "Ah ! Who is it, General ?" 
 
 "Hiram Bradford." 
 
 lyike one electrified, Douglas sprang erect his 
 lips apart, his cheeks flushed. 
 
 "Hiram Bradford ! " he ejaculated. 
 
 General Harrison nodded.
 
 362 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " And you have seen him, General ? " 
 
 "I have." 
 
 ' ' Did he send for you ? ' ' 
 
 "No ; I knew nothing of his capture, till I went 
 among the prisoners, yesterday evening. I recog- 
 nized him instantly, although he has changed much 
 since the Tippecanoe campaign. Evidently he is 
 not in good health. He's emaciated, and his hair 
 is white as snow. But he's the same cool, self- 
 reliant villian. " 
 
 Harrison uttered this last sentence, in a tone of 
 intense and bitter hatred. Ross Douglas winced. 
 Instantly he realized what Bradford's fate was likely 
 to be. But hiding his feelings as well as he could, 
 the young man inquired : 
 
 "Did you talk with him, General Harrison? " 
 
 ' ' A little. I called him by name. He didn't 
 attempt to conceal his identity. He asked about 
 you; and when I informed him you were with 
 Colonel Dudley, in the battle across the river, and 
 hadn' t returned to the i ort with the survivors, he 
 groaned aloud. When he had recovered his equanim- 
 ity, he exacted from me a promise that, should 
 you return, I would send you to him. For some 
 reason, Douglas, that scoundrel is interested in your 
 welfare for some reason he likes you very much. 
 His actions toward you in the past, his agitation 
 about your welfare yesterday, prove it." 
 
 Kor a moment Ross stood with downcast eyes and ' 
 said nothing. Then suddenly looking up, he in- 
 quired with a show of emotion :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 363 
 
 "He didn't ask for mercy at your hands, Gen- 
 eral?" 
 
 The general slowly shook his head, all the while 
 keenly eyeing his companion. 
 
 ' ' Nor inquired as to his fate ? ' ' 
 
 "Not a word." 
 
 " But he asked that I be sent to him, upon my 
 return? " 
 
 General Harrison again nodded, and remarked : 
 
 " Here's a pass that will admit you to his pres- 
 ence. When you have talked with him, return to 
 me." 
 
 Douglas silently took the bit of paper extended 
 to him, and turned to leave the tent. At the door 
 he paused and, looking back, said : 
 
 1 ' General Harrison. ' ' 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Will Hiram Bradford be exchanged? " 
 
 " He will not ! " slowly and distinctly. 
 
 " And his fate ?" 
 
 ' ' An ignominious death probably ! It all de- 
 pends upon what a court-martial may do. ' ' 
 
 And General Harrison's thin lips were firmly 
 drawn ; his brows, lowering. 
 
 Douglas again bowed, and quickly withdrew. On 
 reaching the open air, he took a deep breath and, 
 lifting his eyes to the clouded heavens, moved his 
 lips as though in prayer. Then, at a brisk pace, he 
 set out toward the blockhouse where Bradford was 
 confined. As he passed along, he observed a num- 
 ber of children playing in front of a large tent.
 
 364 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' I must call upon Amy, first, ' ' he thought ; ' ' she 
 may be needing something. ' ' 
 
 Gently pushing aside the children who crowded 
 the doorway, he entered the tent. Several families 
 were quartered within. Bedding and cooking uten- 
 sils were scattered about promiscuously. Near the 
 entrance sat a plethoric matron industriously knit- 
 ting. She looked up at Douglas's unannounced en- 
 trance and, chuckling asthmatically, remarked by 
 way of greeting : 
 
 " Come in. But I don't see how you got through 
 the swarm o' young'uns. As the Britishers has 
 quit the'r shootin', we thought it 'Id be no harm to 
 let the little things go out an' play. They was 
 pinin' fer fresh air, you know. Say! how long 
 do you think it'll be 'fore we can go back to our 
 cabins ? ' ' 
 
 " I have no idea," Ross replied, pausing momen- 
 tarily. 
 
 " You hain't? " in evident surprise. " Hain't 
 you got somethin' to do with managin' the war ? " 
 
 Douglas shook his head. 
 
 " Well well! " she continued. " I knowed you 
 wasn't an officer, 'xactly, fer you don't wear no uni- 
 form ; but I thought you surely was a soldier o' 
 some kind such a trim young feller as you be. 
 Then you hain't got nothin' to do with runnin' the 
 war?" 
 
 Ross smilingly disclaimed the honor. 
 
 " Oh ! " the woman exclaimed suddenly^ laugh- 
 ing until her fat sides shook and she threatened to
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 365 
 
 suffocate. " I know you now. You're the feller 
 that fetched the poor young woman here, last night. 
 You've got y'r face washed an' I didn't know 
 you. They say you was in the fight 'cross the 
 river. Had a hard time of it, didn't you? The 
 young woman? She's over there on that pile o' 
 beddin'. She ain't feelin' re'l peart, this morn- 
 inV 
 
 Douglas hurriedly passed on to the spot indicated. 
 Amy lay upon an improvised bed near the center of 
 the tent. At his approach, she arose to a sitting 
 posture and smiled feebly. In the semi-twilight of 
 the interior, she looked wan and haggard. Her 
 clothing was threadbare and shabby ; her brown 
 hair, falling about her shoulders, was a tangled mass. 
 The corners of her mouth were sagged. Truly she 
 was a wreck. Little of her girlish beauty remained. 
 Douglas looked upon her, and shuddered at the aw- 
 ful change in her appearance. 
 
 Near the bedside sat a middle-aged woman, striv- 
 ing vainly to soothe Amy's fretful child. The 
 emaciated, peevish baby was a miniature of its 
 mother. Its cry was weak and querulous. Appar- 
 ently it was about six months old ; but it had the 
 claw-like hands and mummified features of an old 
 woman. Yet Ross noted its resemblance to its 
 mother. 
 
 Taking the thin, calloused hand extended toward 
 him, he seated himself and asked kindly : 
 
 ' ' How are you feeling this morning, Amy ? " 
 
 " Not very well. Baby's cross and my head
 
 366 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 aches." Then, after a slight pause, she added 
 gloomily : 
 
 " But I'm feeling as well as I ever expect to 
 feel." 
 
 "Don't say that," he remonstrated. "You'll 
 regain your health and strength and again be 
 happy." 
 
 Sadly shaking her head, she replied : 
 
 "I'll regain my health and strength, I hope. I 
 must do so for baby's sake ; she needs my care and 
 protection. But, for me, happiness is a thing of the 
 past. " 
 
 ' ' Why do you say that ? " he asked. 
 
 She turned away her face and made no reply. 
 The woman holding the babe arose and sauntered to 
 another part of the tent. 
 
 " Why do you say that for you happiness is a 
 thing of the past ? " Douglas pursued. ' ' You are 
 young, Amy life is all before you " 
 
 " Listen! " she interrupted. " I say there is no 
 further happiness for me, because my heart is broken 
 is dead within me." 
 
 For some seconds both were silent, neither look- 
 ing at the other. At last he inquired : 
 
 " Where will J T OU go when you leave here ? " 
 
 " I don't know yet." 
 
 There was a world of meaning in the last word. 
 And as she uttered it, she turned her hollow eyes 
 full upon her questioner. Ross saw the soul-hun- 
 ger reflected in her face and he started. Their 
 eyes met. She dropped her white lids, and the hot
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 367 
 
 blood mantled her pale cheeks. An embarrassing 
 silence fell upon them. He was the first to speak. 
 
 " Amy," he murmured softly, "I want to help 
 you I want to be kind to you " 
 
 Passionately she caught his hand in both of hers, 
 and whispered all her soul in her voice and man- 
 ner : 
 
 "Ross Ross! Listen to me ! Say that you'll 
 take me away from here to a place where George 
 Hilliard can never find us where we can begin 
 life over and " 
 
 The look in his eyes repelled her advances ; and 
 breaking off in the middle of the sentence, she trem- 
 bled and was silent. 
 
 Gently but firmly withdrawing his hand from her 
 clinging clasp, he said almost sternly : 
 
 " Amy, what you have in mind can never be. I 
 loved Amy L,arkin tenderly and truly. Amy Hil- 
 liard I have no right to love! " 
 
 For a moment she stared at him, as though she 
 did not comprehend. Then, with a groan, she fell 
 back upon the bed and, hiding her face, burst into 
 tears. 
 
 Ross was greatly moved. He pitied her sin- 
 cerely ; yet he felt that he had done right in telling 
 her the truth. Now he bent over her and whis- 
 pered soothingly : 
 
 ' ' Do not weep. The past is forever past. For 
 months, I was a wounded prisoner among the sav- 
 ages. As soon as I could, I made my escape and 
 went back to Franklinton. But you were gone.
 
 368 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 No one knew of your whereabouts you had left 
 no trail behind you. I went to your old home in 
 Pennsylvania. I was disappointed. At last I have 
 found you. But you are the wife of another. Of 
 course you were forced into the hateful mar- 
 riage ' ' 
 
 She had been convulsively sobbing. Suddenly 
 she snatched her hands from her face and, spring- 
 ing erect, cried excitedly : 
 
 ' ' Ross Douglas, I've been deceiving you. I 
 hoped that you still loved me that I could win you 
 back that I still might be happy with you. That 
 hope is dead. I'll deceive you with my silence, 
 no longer. I'll tell you the truth all every- 
 thing!" 
 
 For one fleeting second, she paused and hungrily 
 searched his face, still hoping to detect there some 
 faint glimmer of the passion he had borne her. His 
 features were pale, but calm impassive ; his man- 
 ner was keenly expectant. Stifling a sob, she 
 dashed the hot tears from her eyes and proceeded 
 hurriedly : 
 
 ' ' When you left me at Franklinton and went to 
 join General Harrison's army, I was piqued. I 
 argued with my better self that you didn't love me, 
 as you had professed, or you wouldn't have left me. 
 I felt angry spiteful. I wanted to do something 
 to make you suffer. My father and George Hilliard 
 taunted me with your desertion. They said you 
 had been too ready to leave me that you didn't 
 love me that you wouldn't return. I listened to
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 369 
 
 them I half believed them. A month from the 
 day of your departure, I had convinced myself of 
 your perfidy and had consented to marry George 
 Milliard." 
 
 She paused momentarily, to moisten her dry lips. 
 Ross Douglas's eyes were shining with a strange, 
 indefinable light. But he said nothing. Hastily 
 she resumed : 
 
 ' ' Let me hurry over the events of my brief mar- 
 ried life I cannot bear to recall them. I promised 
 to marry George Hilliard, on condition that my 
 father should sell off everything and remove to a 
 place where you would never find me. For, in spite 
 of all my reasoning, I felt guilty. We disposed of 
 our property and removed to French town, between 
 here and Detroit. On our arrival there, George 
 Hilliard and I were married. Before our marriage 
 he had been very kind to me ; humored me 
 spoiled me. But scarcely was he my husband, ere 
 his whole nature seemed to change. He began to 
 drink heavily, to curse me, to abuse me. Then I 
 realized the sad truth that I had married a drunken 
 brute!" 
 
 For half a minute she could not proceed. When 
 she had regained control of herself, she said huskily : 
 
 " He was jealous. He accused me of still loving 
 you. And God help me ! I couldn't deny the 
 accusation. He tormented me he beat me. My 
 father remonstrated ; and the two had many fierce 
 quarrels. At last my child was born six months 
 ago. A few days after, my husband demanded that 
 24
 
 370 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 my father give him money with which to buy land. 
 My father refused and again they quarreled. In 
 a whirlwind of drunken rage, George Milliard 
 caught up an axe and struck my father a blow that 
 laid him dead upon the floor. I I saw it all, 
 while lying helpless upon my bed ! ' ' 
 
 Once more she stopped in her recital. No sound 
 broke the stillness of the place, but the fretful cry 
 of her child in another part of the tent. Douglas's 
 jaws were set ; his hands, clenched. With a flut- 
 tering sigh, Amj' continued : 
 
 ' ' After he had murdered my father, George 
 Hilliard took all the money he could find and fled. 
 For weeks I lay between life and death, hardly 
 realizing where I was or what had happened. The 
 good people of the settlement provided for my 
 wants, and took care of me. Slowly I regained 
 something of my wonted strength. But I had no 
 means of support ; so, with a number of others who 
 were returning to the East, I set out for western 
 Pennsylvania, hoping to find a shelter among my 
 father's people. But a short distance up the lake 
 from here, our company was set upon by a band of 
 Indians, and we were taken prisoners and brought 
 to the British encampment. Among the savages 
 who attacked our party was George Hilliard, dis- 
 guised as an Indian. He recognized me of 
 course. He mocked at my misery, cuffed and 
 kicked me, and threatened to kill my baby " 
 
 Here her voice almost failed her. But she went 
 on resolutely :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 371 
 
 ' ' I believe he would have done so, had it not 
 been for an angel at the encampment I can't 
 call her anything else a beautiful girl who 
 shielded me from his violence, and helped me to 
 escape. Oh, how beautiful her face was but how 
 sad ! She had red-gold hair, and eyes of heaven's 
 own blue " 
 
 Ross Douglas had arisen to his feet. Eagerly he 
 asked : 
 
 ' ' And her name her name ? ' ' 
 
 Amy Milliard keenly eyed her questioner, before 
 replying. Presently she said slowly : 
 
 ' ' I heard my captors call her L,a Violette. ' ' 
 
 Douglas, in spite of a strong effort to control 
 himself, uttered an exclamation of joyful surprise. 
 His countenance was alight, his eyes were shin- 
 ing. 
 
 "You know her? " Amy said, with lifted brows. 
 
 ' ' Yes I know her, ' ' he replied cautiously. 
 " Go on with your story." 
 
 But she did not. Instead she inquired : 
 
 ' ' How long have you known her ? ' ' 
 
 " Ever since I was a captive among the Indians," 
 he answered candidly. "She nursed me when I 
 was wounded ; she helped me to escape. ' ' 
 
 Her woman's intuition enabled her to arrive at 
 the truth at a bound. Calmly she said : 
 
 " Ross, you love this beautiful girl you love 
 La Violette." 
 
 He made no reply in words. But the hot blood 
 crimsoned his tanned cheeks and mounted to his
 
 372 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 white forehead. Then the tell-tale tide receded as 
 quickly as it had arisen ; and again he was out- 
 wardly calm. 
 
 At that moment, the woman who had been caring 
 for the baby approached the mother and remarked : 
 
 " The little thing's gone to sleep, at last. I see 
 you're feelin' better," in a slightly sarcastic tone 
 "so I'll let you take care of her now, while I 
 look after my own affairs." 
 
 " I thank you for your kindness," Amy mur- 
 mured confusedly. 
 
 "You're welcome," the woman replied, with a 
 slight toss of the head, and turned and left. 
 
 " You love La Violette," the young woman re- 
 peated, again fixing her gaze upon Ross's face. 
 
 "Yes, I love her, Amy," he answered deliber- 
 ately. " But I didn't fully realize the fact until 
 this hour. She was very kind to me during my 
 captivity. She loved me and I knew it. But I 
 thought of you ; and blinded myself to her charms. 
 I was true to you through it all in deed and in 
 thought. As soon as I escaped, I returned to your 
 home, intending desiring to make you my wife. 
 You were gone. But still I thought you true. I 
 had no idea that you would marry George Milliard, 
 of your own choice. I searched for you longed 
 for you. I loved you still I believed in your love 
 for me. Yesterday I found you. I said to myself : 
 ' She has been forced into this marriage she isn't 
 to blame. But she is lost to me forever ; I have 
 no right to love her now.' Then L,a Violette 's
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 373 
 
 face arose before me. And I knew that I loved 
 her that my love for you was a thing of the past. 
 Last night was the first time that I acknowledged 
 to myself that I loved La Violette. But I argued 
 with myself that you hadn't been at fault, and 
 that it would be cruel heartless for me to think 
 of marrying La Violette, should I ever find her. 
 In the silent watches of the night alone with my 
 God I resolved to give up all quest for her, to re- 
 main faithful to my plighted troth. But this morn- 
 ing " 
 
 He broke off abruptly and looked her full in the 
 eyes. 
 
 " Go on," she whispered, with pale lips. 
 
 ' ' But this morning you have told me your story ; 
 and " 
 
 Again he stopped. 
 
 " Well? " she breathed faintly. 
 
 "/ am free!" 
 
 Spasmodically hugging her baby to her breast, 
 she sank back upon the bed and turned her face 
 from him. He saw that she was pale and trem- 
 bling ; and he sincerely pitied her. Bending over 
 her, he whispered gently : 
 
 "I'll be your friend, Amy, as in the past. I'll 
 do all in my power to find you a home, to make 
 your future life comfortable and happy." 
 
 She made no reply, by word or sign. 
 
 1 ' I believe you said you had started to return to 
 your relatives in Pennsylvania? " he remarked. 
 
 She slightly inclined her head.
 
 374 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "Very well. When we can leave here, I'll 
 find you company and send you thither. Now I 
 must be going. Don't think me cruel. I'm try- 
 ing to be just and merciful." 
 
 A few moments later, he was without the tent. 
 The heavens were thickly clouded ; the rain was 
 falling drearily. A short time he stood with bared 
 head, unmindful of the buzz of human life around 
 him. Then, sighing, he took his way toward the 
 place where Hiram Bradford was confined. 
 
 A
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 DOUGLAS presented his pass to the guard at the 
 corner blockhouse. The soldier glanced at 
 it and silently stepped aside. Ross entered 
 the large unfloored room and looked about him. 
 The place was damp and gloomy ; the pent air was 
 musty and offensive. A number of whites and 
 Indians were sprawling upon the bare ground. In 
 one of the farther corners was a solitary individual. 
 Ross made his way toward him. By the murky 
 light that struggled in at the loopholes and crev- 
 ices, the young man recognized Hiram Bradford. 
 At the same instant, the older man recognized the 
 newcomer and, arising to his feet, held out his 
 hand, saying : 
 
 " Ross Douglas, I'm glad to see you. I'm 
 overjoyed to know you escaped death in yesterday's 
 battle." 
 
 " I'm glad to meet you, Bradford," Ross re- 
 plied ; " but I'm sorry to meet you here." 
 
 " I understand," Bradford returned coolly. "Sit 
 down. I've something of importance to tell you. ' ' 
 
 They seated themselves upon a puncheon bench 
 that stood against the log wall. Douglas noted the 
 marked change in his companion's appearance. The 
 older man's hair was white as snow ; his face, lean 
 and cadaverous ; his figure, emaciated and bent. 
 
 (375)
 
 3 ;6 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Noticing Ross's commiserating look, Bradford re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Yes, I'm changed, Douglas greatly changed. 
 An incurable malady is rapidly sapping my vitality. 
 I've but a short time to live even if I escape 
 death at the hands of your commander, which I 
 don't expect. You saw General Harrison before 
 you came here ? ' ' 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "Did he say what disposition would be made 
 of me?" 
 
 "He he said you wouldn't be exchanged," 
 Ross stammered. 
 
 "It's unnecessary to say more," Bradford re- 
 turned calmly. ' ' He intends to court-martial me 
 to have me shot as a spy and deserter. Well, 
 according to the usages of war, I deserve the fate. 
 It's best that I should die so. It's a fitting cli- 
 max to a misspent life. I have but a short time to 
 live at best a few days can make no difference. 
 And a sudden, painless death is to be preferred to 
 one of lingering torture from a slow disease." 
 
 Then, seeing the pained look upon Douglas's 
 face : 
 
 ' ' Tut-tut, my boy ! Don't grieve over my fate. 
 I tell you it is best that I should die so. But I don't 
 care to talk of it ; it's just a little unwelcome to 
 contemplate. ' ' 
 
 Here he paused and smiled feebly. A lump rose 
 in Ross's throat ; he could say nothing in reply. 
 Bradford asked quickly :
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 377 
 
 " Where have you been since you escaped from 
 the village upon the Mississinewa ? ' ' 
 
 Douglas found his voice, and told his companion 
 of his wanderings and adventures. When the 
 younger man had finally finished, the older re- 
 marked : 
 
 " It was well that L,a Violette helped you to es- 
 cape ; otherwise, the treacherous Indians would 
 have killed you. When I returned to the village 
 and found you gone, I was furious ; but La Violette 
 explained the situation to me and I was satisfied. 
 Immediately, I took the dear girl with me and went to 
 Canada. Then I instituted search for you. I sent 
 a messenger to your old home at Franklinton ' ' 
 
 ' ' Why were you so anxious to find me, Brad- 
 ford ? ' ' Ross could not refrain from asking. 
 
 " Don't interrupt me," the other cried irritably. 
 " I have much to tell you. I mean to explain all, 
 but I must do it in my own way. As I said, I 
 hunted for you far and near ; but I couldn't locate 
 you. My health was failing. I realized that I was 
 affected with a fatal malady, and I worried night 
 and day I feared I was to die without again see- 
 ing you. Finally my business led me to this vicin- 
 ity. I came not as a spy ' ' the color mantled 
 his pale cheeks, and the puckered scar flamed scar- 
 let "but as a British commissary to look after 
 the needs of Tecumseh's warriors. Yesterday I 
 was captured ; and here I am doomed to an igno- 
 minious death. But it doesn't matter ; I've 
 found you I can carry out my plans ere I die. ' '
 
 378 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 The husky voice was hardly audible. 
 
 For a few moments neither spoke. Mastering 
 his emotion, Bradford asked abruptly : 
 
 ' ' Douglas, would you like to see La Violette ? ' ' 
 
 " Very much," Ross replied promptly. 
 
 ' ' Do you know where she is ? " 
 
 ' ' At the British encampment across the river. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Ah ! You do know. Did you see her there 
 did you meet her ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' No ; but I heard of her presence there, through 
 another." 
 
 " Ross Douglas, do you love La Violette ? " 
 
 Anger blazed in the young man's handsome 
 countenance, and he replied hotly : 
 
 "What is it to you, Hiram Bradford, whom I 
 love ? " 
 
 " Much more than you suspect, my boy," was the 
 cool rejoinder. "Answer my question, please. Do 
 you love La Violette ? ' ' 
 
 Douglas shut his fists and set his teeth. For a 
 full minute, he sat and glared at his audacious ques- 
 tioner. But Bradford did not quail. On the con- 
 trary, he smiled and said with provoking coolness : 
 
 " I must have a positive answer from you. Do 
 you, or do you not, love La Violette? " 
 
 "Yes, I love her," replied Ross through his 
 shut teeth. 
 
 " You don't know how happy I am to hear you 
 say that! " the older man exclaimed joyfully. "She 
 loves you, my lad you know that, as well as I. 
 Will you marry her ? "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 379 
 
 " You are carrying this thing too far, Bradford," 
 Douglas cried. "Why do you meddle in my affairs 
 why have you done so in the past ? ' ' 
 
 "You want to know?" Bradford replied, 
 his scarred countenance suddenly losing its expres- 
 sion of mocking carelessness, and becoming grave. 
 
 ' ' I want to know, ' ' was the decided answer. 
 
 " Then prepare yourself for a disagreeable sur- 
 prise," Bradford said in a husky whisper. 
 
 "I'm ready for anything," Ross replied. "Go 
 on." 
 
 ' ' Ross Douglas, / am your father ! ' ' 
 
 With a hoarse cry half-groan the young man 
 arose and staggered against the rough wall. His 
 face was colorless ; his limbs were shaking ; and 
 he threatened to sink to the ground. 
 
 Bradford quickly got upon his feet and, grasping 
 his companion by the shoulders, forced him to 
 resume his seat, saying in bitter accents : 
 
 ' ' Don't let the disagreeable truth unman you. 
 Sit down. I shall not disgrace you long with my 
 presence on earth." 
 
 Ross sank upon the rude bench, murmuring 
 brokenly : 
 
 " You, my father ! Hiram Bradford, the spy 
 the deserter the British tool, my father! Oh, 
 God!" 
 
 Then both were silent. Douglas bowed his head 
 upon his hands. Bradford leaned back against the 
 wall and panted. His face was deathlike. The 
 red scar upon his cheek was purplish. But he kept
 
 380 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 his keen eyes immovably fixed upon the bowed 
 form at his side. 
 
 At last Ross slowly lifted his head ; and, extend- 
 ing his hand toward his companion, whispered 
 hoarsely : 
 
 "Forgive my hasty words. The the surprise 
 the shock was almost more than I could bear! 
 For the moment I was dumbfounded crazed. ' ' 
 
 The older man eagerly grasped the proffered 
 hand and replied in agitated tones : 
 
 " I have nothing to forgive, my son. Would to 
 God you could say as much ! " 
 
 " You are my father! " Ross muttered 
 mechanically. 
 
 " I am John Douglas, your father," was the con- 
 vincing reply. 
 
 Each had partially regained control of his feel- 
 ings. Now the son said softly : 
 
 "Tell me all all!" 
 
 There was intense bitterness in the father's voice, 
 as he answered : 
 
 " Yes, my boy, now I'll tell you everything. 
 The whole truth can't make you despise me more 
 than you do already than I despise myself. Are 
 you ready to listen patiently? " 
 
 Ross nodded ; and his father proceeded : 
 
 ' ' My real name is John Douglas ; though for 
 years I have borne the alias Hiram Bradford. I 
 cruelly deserted your mother when you were an 
 infant. We loved each other, but we couldn't 
 agree. The fault was all my own. Your mother
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 381 
 
 was a sweet-tempered angel ; I was a hot-headed 
 brute. In those days I drank heavily. I was un- 
 reasonable abusive ; but she meekly bore with 
 me. Her meekness only angered me. It mad- 
 dened me to meet her reproachful looks. At last I 
 could stand it no longer. Like the base knave that 
 I was, I deserted her and you. I must have been 
 possessed of a devil I can't explain my actions 
 otherwise. And the same devil has dogged my 
 footsteps through all the years." 
 
 He paused and drew a sighing respiration, ere he 
 continued : 
 
 " But let me hasten. What use to dwell upon 
 my past mistakes and misdeeds ? I went to Can- 
 ada and entered the service of the English govern- 
 ment, as an Indian agent. I partially reformed 
 I made money in abundance. But I was unhappy ; 
 I wanted to return to your mother to see you. 
 At last I could endure the torture no longer. I set 
 out upon my return journey. All the weary way, I 
 pictured to myself how I should take your mother 
 and yourself in my arms and beg your forgiveness; 
 but fate cheated me. I was doomed to such black 
 and bitter disappointment to such poignant sor- 
 row as" his voice faltered "a remorseful 
 conscience alone can know. I reached the old 
 home. Your mother was dead ; you were gone. 
 The neighbors informed me that your uncle had 
 taken you away they knew not whither. " 
 
 Again he paused, as though expecting his listener 
 to make some remark. But Ross's countenance
 
 382 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 remained stern and impassive. The father cleared 
 his throat and went on : 
 
 " I returned to Canada and resumed work for the 
 British government. The demon of perversity still 
 followed me. I deserted the flag of my native land, 
 as I had deserted my wife and child. I became the 
 Englishman's spy his tool his dog. But I didn't 
 forget you, my son. My business led me among 
 the Indians. From one end of the Northwest Ter- 
 ritory to the other, I searched for you ; but I could 
 gain no tidings of you. I thought you dead, and 
 gave up the fruitless quest. You know how I met 
 you at last and learned your .name. It's unneces- 
 sary to say more." 
 
 ' ' And L,a Violette ? ' ' Ross suggested. 
 
 "You wish to know her history ? " 
 
 The son inclined his head. 
 
 " About seventeen years ago," John Douglas 
 resumed, ' ' I was stationed at Quebec. While there 
 I made the acquaintance of a wealthy Englishman, 
 Charles Brownlee, in this manner : He had a 
 beautiful wife, and a little daughter one year old. 
 One day the family was out driving, and their 
 horses became frightened and got beyond their 
 driver's control. I caught the maddened animals, 
 and, at the risk of my own life, brought them to a 
 stop, receiving this wound for my temerity ' ' 
 pointing to the puckered scar upon his cheek. 
 " Charles Brownlee became my fast friend. I 
 visited at his house. I learned to love and respect 
 the parents and to worship the angelic child. Also,
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 383 
 
 I learned much of their family history. Charles 
 Brownlee had inherited his wealth from his grand- 
 father. A cousin, who felt that he had been 
 wronged out of his rightful share of the estate, came 
 to Quebec to demand restitution. My friend refused 
 to listen to the claimant's demands ; and the dis- 
 appointed and angry man left the house, vowing 
 vengeance. A week later, Charles Brownlee and 
 his beautiful wife died very suddenly. The murder- 
 ous cousin had hired an unscrupulous domestic to 
 poison them. This was never proven, but I know 
 whereof I speak for I have some knowledge of 
 drugs, and I was in the house at the time." 
 
 The speaker stopped and wearily shifted his 
 position. 
 
 "Go on father," Ross whispered, his face 
 alight with interest. 
 
 The son hesitated at the paternal term, but reso- 
 lutely used it. The father's drawn features relaxed 
 into a happy smile, as he took up the thread of his 
 narrative. 
 
 "After the death of her parents," he continued, 
 " I stole away Charles Brownlee' s little daughter, 
 and hid her among the Shawnees. Her life alone 
 stood between the unprincipled relative and the 
 estate he coveted ; and I felt that it was necessary 
 to hide her from him. Tenskwatawa adopted her. 
 The tribe believed and yet believes her a gift 
 from the Great Spirit. The Prophet has loved her 
 has been kind to her. But when I sought to 
 take her from him, to send her to school, he was
 
 384 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 exceedingly angry and threatened to have me killed. 
 However, my will was the stronger. I had my way, 
 and sent her to a mission school in Quebec. There 
 she remained securely hidden from the prying 
 eyes of her relative's agents for five or six years. 
 At the end of the time, I restored her to the care of 
 the Shawnees. There you met her. She learned 
 to love you ; you fell in love with her " 
 
 " Have you told La Violette her life's history? " 
 Ross interrupted. 
 
 ' ' Call her Violet Brownlee that's her English 
 name," the father answered. "Yes, I have told 
 her all." 
 
 ' ' Why why do you wish me to marry her ? ' ' 
 the son inquired hesitatingly. 
 
 " For this reason: You are my son ; and I love 
 you. I love her as a daughter. Ever since I met 
 you at the Prophet's Town, I have felt you should 
 marry her. She loves you she needs your pro- 
 tection. The murderer of her parents still lives. 
 He is in undisputed ownership of the property. But 
 he knows that she isn't dead ; and is anxiously 
 awaiting for her to put in an appearance and lay 
 claim to the estate that he may dispose of her 
 forever. I have in my possession documents that 
 establish her identity and her title to her father's 
 wealth " 
 
 ' ' Isn't it for the sake of this same wealth that 
 you wish me to marry Violet Brownlee, Hiram 
 Brad father?" Ross asked haltingly, his face 
 flushing.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 385 
 
 " Not at all," John Douglas replied in a tone of 
 deep sincerity. ' ' I have property and money 
 I'm wealthy. All I have is yours. I've 
 never enjoyed my riches now it's too late. 
 In giving all to you, let me fondly imagine 
 that I'm making some slight atonement for 
 what I've made you and your mother suffer. 
 You'll find my deeds, mortgages, and other 
 private papers including those pertaining to Violet 
 and her inheritance in this leathern packet. I've 
 carried it with me for months, hoping to meet you 
 and give it to you." 
 
 With these words, the father drew from a pocket 
 within his hunting-shirt a large leather wallet, and 
 extended it toward his son. 
 
 Silently Ross took the pocketbook and thrust it 
 into his bosom. 
 
 "You'll carry out my wishes," the older man 
 remarked quietly. 
 
 " If you don't live to carry them out yourself, 
 father," Ross replied with feeling, " I will see 
 that Miss Brownlee gains possession of her 
 own " 
 
 " Please say that you'll marry Violet, my 
 son," the father said pleadingly. 
 
 For a few minutes the younger man was silent 
 wrapped in deep thought. Then he answered 
 slowly and solemnly : 
 
 " If I find everything as you have stated and 
 she'll consent to become my wife I'll marry 
 her." 
 25
 
 386 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' Thank you thank you ! ' ' John Douglas mur- 
 mured huskily. 
 
 Then after a momentary pause : 
 
 ' ' Now, let me tell you what you must do first. 
 Under the protection of a flag of truce, you must go 
 to the British camp and bring Violet here. Tell 
 her I'm a prisoner and wish to see her but don't 
 let her know that I'm to die an ignominious 
 death " 
 
 His voice failed him. And covering his face, he 
 wept silently. 
 
 " Don't despair don't give way to grief," 
 Ross said kindly, at the same time arising and lay- 
 ing his hand upon his father's shoulder. "I'll 
 intercede for you I'll do all in my power to 
 save you." 
 
 John Douglas, lifting his tear- wet face, whispered 
 tremulously : 
 
 " You you say you'll try to save me?" 
 
 " I will," Ross answered firmly. 
 
 "Then then you don't hate me despise 
 me? " 
 
 The son's voice was thick with emotion, as he 
 replied : 
 
 " No, father, I don't hate you ; neither do I love 
 you. But I pity you and will use what little in- 
 fluence I have, in your behalf. I freely forgive you 
 all the wrong you have done me ; but I can't for- 
 get that you were cruel to my mother that you 
 have been a traitor to your country. Still you've 
 been kind tome in many ways you've had my
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 387 
 
 welfare at heart. And I've learned to like you. 
 In time, perhaps " 
 
 "Say no more!" the father cried, dashing the 
 tears from his eyes. " I'm more than satisfied. 
 You don't know how you have sweetened the bit- 
 ter draught that I must drink. Oh, Ross my son ! 
 If only I could live my life over " 
 
 Again he broke down. Ross felt the hot tears 
 upon his own cheeks. Presently the father regained 
 control of his emotions, and, rising, said calmly : 
 
 "You spoke of interceding in my behalf. To 
 whom will you go ? " 
 
 "To General Harrison." 
 
 "Don't go. It will avail nothing." 
 
 "I'll make the trial," was the decided reply. 
 " This evening I'll see you again. Keep in good 
 heart until I return. Good-by father." 
 
 Silently they shook hands and parted.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 rain still fell ; the wind still blew in fitful 
 gusts. The canvas walls of the officers' tents 
 swelled in and out, and cracked and popped 
 boisterously. In the shelter of the traverses, sol- 
 diers huddled together and smoked in silence. The 
 parade ground was deserted ; and the sodden and 
 trampled earth, the dripping flags clinging closely 
 to their staffs, and the cloaked figures of the sen- 
 tries stubbornly pacing their beats, gave to the in- 
 terior of the American fortification a gloomy and 
 depressing aspect. 
 
 Ross Douglas left the blockhouse, where he had 
 found the father he had never known, and at a rapid 
 pace walked toward General Harrison's quarters. 
 The young man's countenance reflected his contend- 
 ing emotions the varied and exciting experiences 
 through which he had gone. He was glad he had 
 learned I,a Violette's history but sorry he had 
 heard of his father's misspent life ; he rejoiced at the 
 thought that the sweet girl loved him, that he loved 
 her, that she was to be his wife yet he grieved 
 over his father's impending fate. Then, also, he 
 sincerely pitied Amy Hilliard, and worried that I^a 
 Violette was still among the British and Indians. 
 Indeed, his heart was torn and bleeding! 
 
 On reaching the commander's tent, he pushed 
 (388)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 389 
 
 past the orderlies at the door and stood in the Gen- 
 eral' s presence. He was preoccupied and did not 
 stop for ceremony, but said abruptly : 
 
 "General, I have seen Hiram Bradford, and have 
 returned, as you ordered. ' ' 
 
 Harrison was closely studying a map that lay 
 spread out upon a rough table before him. Without 
 looking up, he made reply : 
 
 "And you found him much changed?" 
 
 " In many ways, General." 
 
 The commander lifted his head and answered 
 sharply : 
 
 " I noted no change in the scoundrel, except in 
 his appearance. His health is broken ; but he is the 
 same cool, unscrupulous, defiant knave." 
 
 Ross winced, but sturdily returned : 
 
 "We didn't observe alike, General Harrison. I 
 found him in ill-health, weak, repentant " 
 
 The hero of Tippecanoe whirled about upon his 
 stool. His rugged face darkened ominously. A 
 storm was brewing. 
 
 " My young friend," he interrupted in hard, cold 
 tones, " you talk as if you came to plead his case." 
 
 ' ' I came to intercede in his behalf, ' ' Ross replied 
 calmly. 
 
 General Harrison sprang to his feet, his face black 
 with rage. 
 
 " By heavens ! " he cried. "You are " 
 
 Then the grizzled warrior stopped suddenly. He 
 bit his thin lips and was silent. At last he said 
 quietly, but firmly :
 
 390 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 "What I would say, young man, is this : It's 
 useless to ask me to show clemency to Hiram Brad- 
 ford the spy, the deserter. I can't blame you 
 I don't blame you for feeling sorry for him. 
 He has befriended you in a way, perhaps. But 
 you're an American -you love your country. And 
 you mustn't forget that this man is your country's 
 bitter and avowed enemy. That's not all. During 
 the Tippecanoe campaign, he entered my service as a 
 scout he enlisted regularly. At that time, he was 
 in the employ of the English was their spy. He 
 plotted against my life he deserted. I needn't 
 tell you all this ; you know it only too well. You 
 were the first to arouse my suspicions. You put me 
 on my guard and saved my life. After your es- 
 cape from the savages at Franklinton, you 
 remember you told me that Hiram Bradford had 
 confessed all to you. As a spy, I should let 
 him go; for his scheme failed and his attempt upon 
 my life was in another war. But a deserter once is 
 a deserter forever ; " fiercely ' ' and the penalty 
 is death ! To-morrow a preliminary court-martial 
 will be held ; and you will appear as a witness 
 against Hiram Bradford." 
 
 Douglas dropped upon a stool, moaning : 
 
 " I can't ! Oh, God ! I can't! " 
 
 His keen, mental agony was shown in his face. 
 General Harrison was surprised. Advancing, he 
 laid a hand upon the young man's shoulder and said 
 kindly : 
 
 " You mustn't take the matter so to heart, my
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 391 
 
 boy. Hiram Bradford deserves to die. He shall 
 have full justice ; but no mercy will be shown him, 
 if proven guilty. I cannot fathom why you a 
 pure-minded patriot are so anxious to have a 
 traitorous deserter escape merited punishment." 
 
 " L,et me tell you, General Harrison," Ross cried, 
 springing to his feet. ' ' Then do as you will. Hiram 
 Bradford, the English spy the American deserter, 
 is John Douglas my father ! " 
 
 Had a British shell exploded within the tent, 
 General Harrison could not have been more dumb- 
 founded. He tried to speak, but failed. After 
 staring blankly at his companion for some time, he 
 commenced to pace rapidly up and down the room, 
 clasping and unclasping his brown hands, in an 
 agitated manner. At last he stopped in front of 
 Ross, and said calmly : 
 
 " Sit down and tell me all about it." 
 
 A number of officers entered the tent, before the 
 tale was concluded. The commander paused long 
 enough to say : ' ' Be seated, gentlemen ; I shall 
 be through presently." And again he gave Douglas 
 his attention. At last the two arose. Taking 
 Ross's hand, the commander murmured : 
 
 ' ' Circumstances change the aspect of many plain 
 cases. Your father shall not be tried for his crime ; 
 he shall go free. But the matter must forever remain 
 a secret between ourselves even your trusty com- 
 rades mustn't know. This afternoon an officer 
 and escort will bear a flag of truce to the British 
 camp, to complete arrangements for an exchange of
 
 392 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 prisoners. You will take your father and accom- 
 pany them. Bring the young woman back with you ; 
 but leave your father there, with the injunction that 
 he is to make his way to Canada and never set foot 
 upon American soil again. Wait a moment 
 I'll give you an order for his release." 
 
 A quarter of an hour after, father and son issued 
 from the blockhouse together and John Douglas 
 was a free man. In the full light of the murky day, 
 he looked bent, worn, and feeble ; and he kept close 
 to his stalwart son's side, as though looking to him 
 for guidance and protection. 
 
 Shortly after noon, the two joined the officer and 
 escort, who were setting out for the British encamp- 
 ment. On their way toward the eastern gate of the 
 fortification, they were joined by Farley, Bright 
 Wing, and the hound. 
 
 "Where've you been all the forenoon, Ross?" 
 the old woodman demanded in an injured tone. 
 "Me an' the Injin an' dog's been huntin' you 
 all over the place. Duke nosed 'round, an' said you 
 was down at that blockhouse" pointing with the 
 barrel of his gun. " But me an' the Injin knowed 
 that couldn't be, 'cause ther's pris'ners in there 
 an' you wouldn't have no business with them. Then 
 the houn' took up a 'maginary trail, and tracked 
 you to Ol' Tippecanoe's tent. We knowed that was 
 a lie, too ; 'cause we peeked in, an' you wasn't 
 there. So we've kind o' lost faith in the purp. 
 The smell o' blood, yisterday, must 'ave spiled his 
 scent. But where' ve you been ?"
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 393 
 
 Scarcely slacking his pace, Douglas replied briefly: 
 " I was at the blockhouse and at General Harri- 
 son's quarters. Duke told you the truth." 
 
 " You was ! " Joe ejaculated. " Well, dang my 
 skin if the dog didn't know more'n a couple o' hu- 
 man critters he did, by Tabithy ! Purp, I beg 
 y'r pardon. But where 're you goin' now, Ross?" 
 
 "To the English camp. " 
 
 "I've heerd it said," Farley grumbled, "that 
 the burnt child dreaded the fire ; but you seem to 
 be an 'xception to the rule. Ross Douglas, what in 
 the name o' goodness 're you goin' over there fer? 
 Oh, I'm an ol' fool ! I might 'aveknowed. You're 
 goin' over to git that little red-headed gal, of course 
 
 He suddenly stopped speaking. His watery eyes 
 bulged ; his jaw dropped. He had caught a square 
 look at Ross's companion. 
 
 " Wy.dang it all to dingnation ! "he mum- 
 bled. " If that ain't the scar-faced scout that was 
 with Gener'l Harrison, at Tippecanoe, it's his ghost. 
 An' he looks more like a ghost 'n a mortal man ^ 
 he does, by cracky ! " 
 
 "Ugh! Scar Face much sick, sight lean," 
 Bright Wing grunted. 
 
 Ross made no reply ; John Douglas did not glance 
 around, even. By this time, the squad of soldiers 
 had reached the gate and were passing through. 
 Father and son hastened to overtake them. Farley 
 and his companion kept close upon the heels of those 
 in advance : and with them left the fortification.
 
 394 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Ross thought his comrades had stopped within the 
 walls and felt relieved. He did not notice their 
 presence, until he stood at the water's edge. 
 
 " What are you doing here, Joe ? " he demanded 
 sharply. 
 
 " We're goin' with you," Farley returned coolly. 
 
 " You cannot," Ross said firmly. " Take the dog 
 and return to the fort." 
 
 But Joe and the Wyandot stubbornly shook their 
 heads ; and Duke, dropping upon his haunches, 
 looked appealingly into his master's face. 
 
 "Take Duke and go back to the fortification," 
 Ross repeated, with difficulty repressing a smile at 
 the childlike pertinacity of his friends. 
 
 " We ain't a-goin' back," Farley answered sul- 
 lenly. 
 
 " Ugh ! No go back go with Fleet Foot," the 
 Indian muttered. 
 
 " Why ? " the young man asked impatiently. 
 
 "You may need us," Farley explained. "We 
 don't over an' above like the company you're 
 keepin'." With a jerk of his thumb toward John 
 Douglas. 
 
 Ross dropped his eyes to the ground. His face 
 flushed hotly. He was in a quandary ; he did not 
 know what to do or say. 
 
 The soldiers had launched a boat, and were 
 scrambling into it. 
 
 " Come on don't delay us," the officer called. 
 
 4 ' Here are two of my comrades who desire to ac- 
 company me," Ross hastened to explain.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 395 
 
 The officer cut him short with : 
 
 "Bring them along but be quick about it. 
 The boat will accommodate us all." 
 
 A few minutes later, the entire party had 
 landed on the opposite shore and were making their 
 way toward the British encampment. There the 
 American officer engaged in a consultation with 
 General Proctor and his staff, while Ross Douglas 
 and his companions went to the quarters of Tensk- 
 watawa and L,a Violette, at Fort Miami. 
 
 John Douglas led the way into the stockade of 
 the old fort. The place was filled with Indians and 
 white prisoners. Some of the latter were ill-fated 
 settlers ; others were the luckless Kentuckians of 
 General Clay's command. Several of the militia- 
 men knew Ross Douglas and, calling to him, asked 
 what were the prospects of a speedy exchange. He 
 answered their questions briefly as he hurried along. 
 Occasionally a guttural voice exclaimed "Fleet 
 Foot ! "; and the young man became aware that many 
 of the savages recognized him and were scowling at 
 him. But they did not offer to impede the progress 
 of the small party. Scar Face, whom they hated 
 and feared, was leading it. 
 
 On reaching the farther side of the inclosure, 
 John Douglas stopped and whispered to his son : 
 
 "Here's the cabin Violet occupies. You'll 
 enter with me ; your friends will remain outside 
 on guard. The Indians are dissatisfied restless 
 and ready for any desperate venture. I don't 
 think they'll dare to interfere with us in any way
 
 396 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 but they may. Caution your comrades to be dis- 
 creet to give no heed to threatening words and 
 gestures, unless the savages offer to attack them." 
 
 Ross, turning to Farley, said in a low tone : 
 
 " You and Bright Wing will keep Duke with you 
 and guard the door. Do nothing rash you un- 
 derstand ? ' ' 
 
 Joe nodded gravely ; and Ross continued : 
 
 ' ' We'll transact our business and get out of 
 here, as soon as possible ; the place is unsafe. Be 
 careful of your words and actions, and restrain the 
 hound." 
 
 Again Joe nodded. For a wonder, he did not ut- 
 ter a word in reply. 
 
 Just as father and son were about to enter the 
 low door of the hut, the latter caught sight of a 
 burly, thick-set Indian swaggering up to the spot. 
 His fat and flabby features were grotesquely and 
 hideously painted. He wore a complete suit of 
 coarse cloth, and carried an English rifle. Nearing 
 the group at the door, he stuck his tongue into his 
 cheek and leered impudently. 
 
 Ross started. There was something about the 
 obese brave that seemed familiar \ yet the young 
 man could not recall that he had ever seen the 
 bloated wretch. 
 
 " Who is the greasy knave ? " Ross murmured to 
 himself. 
 
 Farley caught the words and muttered in reply : 
 
 " I don't know but I've seen him somewheres. 
 He's as sassy as a pet fox he is, by Jerushy ! "
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 397 
 
 " Ugh ! " Bright Wing ejaculated explosively 
 and was silent as a graven image. 
 
 "Come," John Douglas said, plucking his son 
 by the arm. " Things are not to my liking. You 
 must take Violet and be off." 
 
 Together the two passed into the cabin. The 
 place was in semi-darkness. Ross heard a startled 
 exclamation in the far corner of the room. Then 
 he became aware that someone had arisen and was 
 moving toward him. His eyes grew accustomed to 
 the gloom ; and he dimly perceived a sylphlike fig- 
 ure advancing toward the center of the floor. There 
 it stopped. The murky light streaming in at the 
 hole in the roof fell upon it. 
 
 Ross Douglas distinctly saw a halo of red-gold 
 hair, the outlines of a fair, sweet face and mur- 
 mured tenderly : 
 
 " La Violette ! " 
 
 " Fleet Foot ! " was the joyful exclamation. 
 
 She stood leaning far forward, her hands clasped 
 in front of her ; but she did not offer to move 
 nearer to him. Ross swept a hurried glance about 
 the interior. He was alone with her ; his father had 
 left the cabin. The young man heard her quick 
 respirations saw her attitude of indecision and 
 opening his arms, he called softly : 
 
 " I love you, darling! Come to me !" 
 
 With a glad cry, she flew to him and nestled in 
 his arms. He strained her to his breast too happy 
 to speak. At last he breathed into her ear the 
 needless question :
 
 398 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " Do you love me, La Violette? " 
 
 Lifting her golden head and reproachfully fasten- 
 ing her violet eyes upon his face, she answered : 
 
 ' ' Can you ask me such a question, Ross Douglas ? 
 You know I love you have loved you ever since 
 you saved my life. But do you really love me ? ' ' 
 
 In answer he kissed her ripe lips and murmured : 
 
 " I worship you, dear love you better than I 
 love anyone else on earth. I've loved you ever 
 since I first met you. But I was betrothed to an- 
 other ; and I wouldn't admit to myself, even, that 
 I loved you. But to-day I am free. I have come 
 to take you from this place from this life. Will 
 you go with me, La Violette ? " 
 
 " To the ends of the earth, " she whispered. 
 
 Holding her from him at arm's length, he asked 
 playfully : 
 
 " Violet Brownlee, will you be my wife? " 
 
 " Ah ! you know all," she returned smilingly. 
 
 " I know all," he returned soberly. " My father 
 has told me." 
 
 " Your father? " she remarked wonderingly. 
 
 "Yes, my father Scar Face, Hiram Bradford, 
 John Douglas." 
 
 Again she nestled in his arms, and for a moment 
 was silent. Presently she murmured musingly : 
 
 ' ' I used often to wonder why Hiram Bradford 
 took so great an interest in me. A few months ago 
 he told me my history. Then I fell to wondering 
 why he had kept you a prisoner against your will, 
 yet was anxious for your welfare. Nor eould I un-
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 399 
 
 derstand why he was so worried over your escape 
 and the fact that he could not find you. Now all 
 is plain." 
 
 He stroked her red-gold hair, but made no reply. 
 He would have been content to hold her thus for 
 hours. Suddenly she lifted her head from his 
 shoulder, and whispered : 
 
 "Ross." 
 
 ."Well, darling?" 
 
 " I^et me see your hand. No, the other. Ah ! 
 you still wear Tenskwatawa's ring. You carried 
 off the Sign of the Prophet ; now you come to carry 
 off his daughter." 
 
 He bent his head and breathed in reply : 
 
 " I valued the Sign of the Prophet ; it assured 
 my safety. I value his daughter much more ; she 
 assures my happiness." 
 
 Standing upon tiptoe and pulling him down, she 
 fondly kissed him and answered : 
 
 " This is a fit reward for your pretty speech. But 
 Tenskwatawa will be here presently ; your father 
 has gone for him. Do not let him see the ring. He 
 has lost much of his power ; and it is better so. He 
 and Tecumseh have deceived their people and led 
 them astray. I see it all now. The wisest of them 
 are but ignorant savages. And the English my 
 own people have made tools of them " 
 
 She stopped speaking and hastily withdrew from 
 her lover's embrace. He turned to discover the 
 cause of her action, and observed Tenskwatawa en- 
 tering the door.
 
 400 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Not deigning to notice the young man, the 
 Prophet walked up to L,a Violette and, laying his 
 hands upon her shoulders, murmured gutturally : 
 
 ' ' My daughter, Scar Face has told me that you 
 mean to leave the tribe your father, forever. Is 
 it so?" 
 
 " Tenskwatawa, my father, it is true." 
 
 ' ' Has Fleet Foot stolen your heart, my daughter? " 
 
 "He has, my father," she replied in a voice 
 hardly audible. 
 
 ' ' And La Violette will accompany him to his 
 lodge and dwell there?" 
 
 The girl looked her interrogator in the face and 
 nodded. Tenskwatawa remained silent. The still- 
 ness of the room was oppressive. At last the 
 Prophet removed his hands from her shoulders and, 
 bowing his head, muttered brokenly : 
 
 " It is well. Where her heart is, La Violette 
 should be. She is a paleface maiden ; she loves a 
 paleface brave. She shall be the light of his lodge 
 
 as she has been the light of Tenskwatawa's 
 life." 
 
 Then, extending his hand to her : 
 
 ' ' My daughter, farewell. The Great Spirit gave 
 you to me he takes you from me. Great is my 
 sorrow ; but I will bear it as becomes a Shawnee. 
 My sign is lost ; my power has departed. My 
 children spurn my words of advice ; the English 
 laugh at my undoing. My sorrow is great. I can 
 bear it I am a Shawnee. My daughter, farewell 
 
 farewell, forever ! ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 401 
 
 Impulsively she threw her arms around his neck 
 and sobbed upon his breast. 
 
 ' ' Tenskwatawa, my father, you have been kind 
 to me. I have tried to be a daughter to you. Now 
 I am about to leave you forever to return to my 
 own people. The Great Spirit wills it so. My 
 father, I would exact one promise from you at 
 parting." 
 
 Gently he disengaged himself from her embrace, 
 and answered : 
 
 ' ' What my daughter desires, I will do. ' ' 
 
 " Then," she cried, " use all your influence all 
 your power to dissuade your children from fight- 
 ing longer under the English banner. The Seven- 
 teen Fires will conquer in the end. The Great 
 Spirit wills it. The redmen will lose their lives and 
 their lands to no purpose. Promise me you will do 
 what I ask." 
 
 "It is too late," he replied dejectedly. "My 
 children are mad with the taste of blood. No longer 
 will they listen to my voice. I helped to lead them 
 into this ; now I cannot drag them out. They are 
 dogs for the English ; they bay along the trail 
 they obey the lash. Tecumseh, my brother, has 
 their ears ; they will not hear my words. I have 
 sinned ; and thus the Great Spirit punishes me. 
 My daughter, I shall see you no more. Fare- 
 well !" 
 
 Drawing his blanket over his head, to hide his 
 emotion, the Prophet quitted the cabin. His thin 
 lips were set ; and his horrid, painted face was 
 26
 
 402 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 drawn and ashen. A moment afterward, John 
 Douglas entered and remarked briskly : 
 
 "You must be off. Make haste! I'll accom- 
 pam' you to the river." 
 
 La Violette made a compact bundle of her few ef- 
 fects, and announced herself as ready. John Doug- 
 las led the way from the cabin. Farley and Bright 
 Wing still stood without ; and Duke was smelling 
 around the door. As La Violette stepped into the 
 open air, the dog fawned upon her, evincing his 
 pleasure at again meeting her. Tears sprang to 
 her eyes ; and, patting the animal's head, she mur- 
 mured : 
 
 " Ah ! You remember me, good fellow." 
 
 ' ' Duke forgets neither his friends nor his ene- 
 mies," Ross said smilingly. 
 
 Farley stepped forward and, doffing his cap and 
 extending a grimy hand, remarked : 
 
 " So you're La Violette, young woman. I've 
 heerd somethin' of you in the last day 'r so." He 
 grinned maliciously at Ross. "This youngster 
 here couldn't do nothin' but talk 'bout you he 
 couldn't, by ginger ! I'm glad to meet you, I am. 
 Thought I'd iutr'duce myself seein' Ross Douglas 
 wasn't goin' to do the job fer me. He's 'fraido' my 
 beauty, little gal 'fraid you might shine up to 
 me. An' this is Bright Wing, a Wyandot. He's 
 a purty good feller, if he has got a red skin. Me 
 an' the Injin's Ross's ol' comrades. Lordy ! Hain't 
 we been in many a scrimmage ? Gol-fer-socks ! I 
 guess so."
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 403 
 
 I,a Violette laughed musically at Joe's absurdities ; 
 and, grasping the extended hands of each, said : 
 ' ' I trust we shall become better acquainted in the 
 future and be fast friends," 
 
 " Ugh 1 " was the monosyllabic response of the 
 Wyandot, as he stepped aside and, leaning upon 
 his gun, fixed his black eyes upon a distant part of 
 the stockade. 
 
 Farley had not yet had his say, however ; and 
 there was sincere admiration in his voice and 
 manner, as he resumed : 
 
 "You're a dang sight purtier 'n I 'xpected you 
 to be, little gal you are, by Katherine ! Asnear's 
 I could git it from Ross Douglas's ravin's, you was 
 a kind of red-headed Injin squaw somethin' like 
 the Winnebago jade that wanted to marry me. 
 You see, miss, the women's alluz been after 
 me " 
 
 "Joe Joe!" Ross cried, smiling in spite of 
 himself. 
 
 " It's a fact, as sure's my name is Joseph Pere- 
 goy ' ' the woodman began. 
 
 But John Douglas impatiently interrupted him 
 with : 
 
 ' ' This is no time to recount your love affairs, my 
 friend. After you have reached the other side of 
 the river, you may boast to your heart's content. 
 Let's be off." 
 
 With the words, he started toward the gate of the 
 dilapidated palisade, the others of the party closely 
 following him. Farley grumbled as he went along :
 
 404 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 " Ol' Pucker Face is as imperdent as a squawkin' 
 catbird buthe's?*^/. Ding-it-all-to-dangnation ! 
 When will I learn not to let my limber tongue git 
 the best o' me?" 
 
 Then aloud to Ross : 
 
 " That fat an' greasy redskin, that come sidelin' 
 up to us jest as you was goin' into the hut, has 
 been slippin' 'round 'mong the other Injins an' 
 doin' a heap o' talkin'. I'll bet a new ramrod he's 
 up to some devilment. I wish I could place him 
 I've seen him somewheres. " 
 
 Ross merely nodded ; and, taking L,a Violette's 
 arm, hurried her onward. Just outside the walls, 
 John Douglas turned and whispered in his son's 
 ear : 
 
 ' ' We'll proceed to the landing-place at once. 
 If the officer who came over with us isn't there 
 with his soldiers, you must hail your friends on the 
 other side and have a boat brought to you immedi- 
 ately. The Indians know and hate you and your 
 comrades. There's mischief brewing. Let's 
 hasten." 
 
 The little party moved rapidly. John Douglas's 
 whispered words and anxious demeanor had warned 
 his companions, of the gravity of the situation ; and 
 they realized that no time was to be lost, if they 
 would escape. At last they came in sight of 
 the place and, to their great relief, beheld the 
 American officer and his escorts just ready to em- 
 bark. An English officer and two subalterns were 
 among the group upon the shore.
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 405 
 
 Ross frantically waved his hand and hallooed at 
 the top of his voice. The American soldiers gave 
 him a ringing cheer in reply, thus signifying they 
 would await his arrival. 
 
 At that moment, a score or more of savages, 
 quickly emerging from the shelter of the trees, con- 
 fronted Ross and his companions. 
 
 Bright Wing uttered a sharp grunt and cocked 
 his rifle. Farley did the same, muttering as he 
 did so : 
 
 "Jest as I 'xpected! Ther's that dang fat brave 
 leadin' 'em." 
 
 Ross placed himself in front of I/a Violette, and 
 looked to the priming of his weapon. John 
 Douglas carried his own gun, which had been re- 
 stored to him on leaving the blockhouse at Fort 
 Meigs. Now he boldly stepped forward his hol- 
 low eyes blazing and shouted authoritatively, in 
 the Shawnee tongue : 
 
 "Out of the way, you hellhounds! Do you 
 not know me ? ' ' 
 
 From force of habit, the Indians retreated a few 
 steps. But the thick-set warrior, who acted as 
 leader of the band, scowled fiercely as he replied in 
 blunt backwoods English : 
 
 "You needn't fire any Injin lingo at me, Mr. 
 Scar Face as the redskins call you. I don't un- 
 derstand it. But I know you I've seen you 
 'round the camp. An' I know what y'r little game 
 is now an' I'm goin' to block it." 
 
 ' ' George Hilliard ! ' ' Ross exclaimed.
 
 406 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' The low-lived critter ! ' ' Farley hissed, ner- 
 vously fingering the trigger of his rifle. 
 
 The fat warrior overheard Ross's exclamation, 
 and returned savagely : 
 
 "Yes, I'm George Hilliard ; an' I've come to 
 have a final settlement with you, Ross Douglas 
 
 " Out of the way, you infernal renegade ! " John 
 Douglas cried menacingly. 
 
 "Not till I'm through with my business, Mr. 
 Scar Face," Hilliard answered coolly. " An' you'd 
 better not becallin' hard names, 'r you'll git a dose 
 o' the same medicine we mean to give that young 
 dandy at y'r side. I'm commandin' this squad o' 
 redskins ; an' they don't like you much better' n 
 they do him. You jest keep quiet till I git through 
 with my business. ' ' 
 
 Then turning his attention from father to son : 
 
 "Ross Douglas, you an' me's goin' to have a 
 final settlement right here. You toted off my wife 
 last night me an' my gang trailed you 'cross the 
 river. An' now you've come to carry off the 
 Prophet's gal. You ain't content with one woman 
 you want two. But then I happen to want this 
 young miss myself an' I'm goin' to have her. 
 Fair 'xchange is no robbery. You can have my 
 wife; I'll take your plump little sweetheart. Hand 
 her over peaceably, an' you an' y'r crowd can go 
 on to the fort ; refuse, an' my warriors '11 kill an' 
 scalp the last one o' you. Do you understand ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' I understand you you devil incarnate ! ' '
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 407 
 
 Ross answered in a voice hoarse with rage. ' ' Do 
 your worst! You shall not lay your vile hands 
 upon this pure being, as long as the breath of life is 
 spared me! " 
 
 " Which won't be very long!" Hilliard muttered 
 with an oath. 
 
 Farley and Bright Wing set their teeth and 
 calmly awaited the attack. Ross turned to his 
 father and asked : 
 
 "What can we do?" 
 
 ' ' Fight to the death ! ' ' was the cool and deter- 
 mined reply. 
 
 Slipping an arm around L,a Violette's waist, Ross 
 whispered : 
 
 "Good-by, darling! I,ie down behind that 
 mound, out of the way of flying bullets. As soon 
 as the first discharge of firearms is over, run to- 
 ward the boat at the top of your speed. If I 
 escape death, I'll rejoin you there." 
 
 She was very pale ; and her limbs were trem- 
 bling. But she replied firmly : 
 
 ' ' I will not leave your side, Ross. If you must 
 die, I die with you! " 
 
 The soldiers on the shore had been witnesses of 
 the whole proceeding. At the distance, they could 
 not tell what was going on ; but knowing that 
 something was amiss, and fearing the worst, a 
 number of them had left the boat and started 
 toward the scene of disturbance. Now they came 
 running at full speed along the bank. The Wyan- 
 dot's quick eyes caught sight of them and he 
 grunted ;
 
 408 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 ' ' Palefaces come heap many. Ugh ! ' ' 
 
 " That's a fact, Injin! " Farley muttered in reply. 
 ' ' If we can only hold the red devils off till ' ' 
 
 Ross Douglas was anxiously watching the actions 
 of the savages. Suddenly he saw them quit talk- 
 ing and make a move to encircle their victims. An 
 inspiration came to him. Taking a step forward, 
 he raised his right hand and cried in ringing tones : 
 
 " Children of Teuskwatawa ! " 
 
 The attention of the Indians was arrested. They 
 stopped and stared hard at the speaker. 
 
 "Behold the Sign of the Prophet!" Ross 
 shouted. 
 
 At the same time, he slowly waved his hand to 
 and fro, and, imitating the sinuous movements of 
 the red hypnotist, advanced upon the semicircle of 
 warriors. The effect was marvelous. 
 
 ' ' The Sign of the Prophet ! The Sign of the 
 Prophet ! " they wailed in terrified accents, shrink- 
 ing away from him their eyes immovably fixed 
 upon the talisman. 
 
 For a moment George Hilliard was dumbfounded. 
 He could not understand what was happening. 
 Realizing that Ross, in some way, was sending ter- 
 ror to the hearts of the red fiends, the thick-set 
 villain's face grew purple with rage. He stormed 
 and raved. But all to no purpose ; the savages 
 were spellbound they could not hear his voice. 
 
 Slowly advancing and continuing his serpen- 
 tine movements Ross continued : 
 
 "Children of the Prophet, I wear his sign I 
 have his power ! I am doing the will of the Great
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 409 
 
 Spirit. Away away ! Go ere I strike you 
 blind " 
 
 "Curse you, Ross Douglas! /'// strike you 
 blind ! " Milliard howled frantically. 
 
 Quick as a flash, he threw his gun to his shoulder 
 and fired. But quick as his movements were, John 
 Douglas's were quicker. Just before the roar of 
 the firearm rang out upon the air, the father sprang 
 in front of his son. The next moment he sank to 
 earth, mortally wounded. With a lionlike roar 
 of rage, Duke leaped upon the murderer and 
 dragged him to the ground. Three rifles cracked 
 in rapid succession ; and three painted braves met 
 death. 
 
 The spell was broken. The savages gazed about 
 in stupefaction. Then, dimly realizing what had 
 happened, they broke and fled toward the cover of 
 the woods, just as the soldiers, cheering lustily, 
 dashed up. 
 
 L,a Violette dropped upon the ground and pil- 
 lowed John Douglas's head upon her lap. Ross 
 bent over the dying man, and in a voice full of 
 anguish asked : 
 
 " Father, can you see me can you speak to 
 me?" 
 
 The fast-glazing eyes looked steadily into those 
 of the questioner, and the white lips whispered 
 faintly : 
 
 "I see both of you, my my children; but 
 very very dimly. Do not move out of my 
 sight. I'm dying! It is best so. I have given
 
 410 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 my life for you, my son ; and I I die happy. I 
 am going give me your hands ! Good-by I 
 I " 
 
 With a deep, tremulous sigh, he closed his eyes. 
 Twice the deep chest heaved spasmodically. And 
 he was dead. 
 
 "My father oh, my father !" Ross moaned, 
 still clinging to the dead man's hand. 
 
 Joe Farley overheard the words and muttered to 
 himself : 
 
 "Ross Douglas's father! Scar Face Hiram 
 Bradford John Douglas all one an' the same. 
 Dang-it-all-to-dingnation ! Hang-it-up-an'-take-it- 
 down-an'-cook-it ! Won't wonders an' mysteries 
 never come to an end ? " 
 
 Then, in a low tone, he said to the Wyandot : 
 
 " Injin, we'd better call Duke away from that 
 painted lump o' taller out there. I s'pect the dog's 
 worried the cuss a good 'eal by this time." 
 
 "Ugh!" Bright Wing snorted contemptuously. 
 ' ' Duke no worry fat paleface-redman now ; fat 
 paleface-redman heap much dead. Me stick knife 
 in him." 
 
 " Huh ! " Farley ejaculated. Then to the dog : 
 
 "Here, Duke, come away from that carcass. 
 You'll git p'izened nosin' 'round such a varmint 
 you will, by Molly ! Come away, I say ! " 
 
 The hound obeyed. 
 
 Ross, had arisen, and stood silently gazing into 
 the face upturned to the clouded heavens. L,a 
 Violette was weeping bitterly. The English officer
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 411 
 
 advanced to Ross's side and said with much feel- 
 ing : 
 
 "I can't tell you, young man, how sorry I am 
 that this thing has happened. But the savages are 
 unruly ; they can't be controlled " 
 
 Then he abruptly stopped speaking and peered 
 into the upturned countenance. Starting back, he 
 exclaimed excitedly : 
 
 " Why, this is Hiram Bradford one of our own 
 men ! " 
 
 Ross nodded stiffly. 
 
 ' ' Curse the savage brutes ! ' ' the officer mut- 
 tered as he turned and strode away. " Whom will 
 they turn upon next? " 
 
 Taking with them the body of John Douglas 
 but leaving George Hilliard and his red associates 
 where they fell the company made their way to 
 the boat, and embarked for Fort Meigs.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LA ViOLETTE, during her short stay at Fort 
 Meigs, lived iu the tent of the refugees. By 
 many gracious acts, she endeared herself to 
 her simple-minded companions. She spent much 
 of her time in caring for Amy's sick and fretful 
 child ; and the heart-broken young mother learned 
 to love and respect the gentle, sweet-faced nurse. 
 The two women exchanged confidences ; and each 
 shed tears over the trials that had fallen to the lot 
 of the other. 
 
 One evening, Ross and his sweetheart were walk- 
 ing up and down in front of the refugees' tent. 
 The air was balmy ; the sky was studded with stars. 
 From the camp-fires, twinkling like fireflies in the 
 sweet dusk, came the sounds of merriment ; from 
 the interior of the tent, came the cry of the peevish 
 baby. 
 
 ' ' I pity her so ! " La Violette said softly. ' ' She 
 has very honestly told me all, Ross. She never 
 loved you as I do ; but she loved you in her way 
 I am sure. And she lost you. Yet I am selfish 
 enough to be glad, while I pity her ; for had she 
 not done what she did, you would not be mine 
 to-night." 
 
 "I don't know," he replied, carefully weighing 
 each word. "Perhaps I wouldn't have married 
 (412)
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 413 
 
 her. I'm beginning to doubt that we ever really 
 loved each other. At any rate, I love you now, 
 darling you alone! Now let us talk of our 
 future." 
 
 They sauntered from the spot ; while the stars 
 smiled down upon them, as they have smiled down 
 upon lovers since the race began. 
 
 John Douglas found a grave just without the 
 wall of the fortification. In an obscure corner by 
 himself, he was laid to rest. An erring son, he had 
 spent the best years of his life in the service of an 
 alien power ; but he came home to sleep his last 
 long sleep. 
 
 In after-years, Ross Douglas returned to Fort 
 Meigs, with the intention of erecting a monument 
 to his father's memory ; but the surroundings had 
 changed so much he could not locate the grave. 
 
 When General Harrison was informed of the 
 manner of John Douglas's death, he immediately 
 sent for Ross. Taking the son by the hand, the 
 old soldier said with emotion : 
 
 "I'm sincerely glad I freed your father sin- 
 cerely sorry he's dead. Yet it is best. His death 
 atones for his life. He died for you. It was a noble 
 self-sacrifice. Your father had in him the elements 
 of a great and noble nature ; but his whole life was 
 a failure, because his talents and energies were mis- 
 directed. Whatever comes, my young friend, be 
 true to yourself, your country, and your God! " 
 
 For several days after the return of Ross and his 
 friends to Fort Meigs, the weather continued foul.
 
 4H THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 Then it grew warm and bright with sunshine. 
 With the change in the weather, came a change in 
 the aspect of affairs. Hostilities were not renewed ; 
 an exchange of prisoners was effected. The savages, 
 discouraged by Proctor's want of success in reducing 
 the American garrison, began to desert his standard 
 in large numbers. Realizing the uselessness of 
 prolonging the siege, the British commander pre- 
 pared to abandon the enterprise ; and on the ninth 
 of the month he took his departure. 
 
 The investment of the post had lasted thirteen 
 days. During that time the enemy had fired 
 eighteen hundred shells and cannon balls into the 
 fort, and had kept up an annoying discharge of 
 small arms ; yet the American loss in killed and 
 wounded was only two hundred and seventy. 
 
 Offensive operations were for a time suspended. 
 The American troops remained at Fort Meigs and 
 Sandusky. A few days after the British had with- 
 drawn, General Harrison left General Clay in com- 
 mand of the post, and set out for Franklintou, to 
 forward re-enforcements. With the commander and 
 his escort, went Ross Douglas and his friends. 
 Without mishap or adventure, the whole company 
 reached their destination in the latter part of May. 
 
 At Franklinton, Amy Hilliard bade farewell to 
 Ross and La Violette and, joining a party of return- 
 ing settlers, went to her father's people in western 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 Upon their arrival at Franklinton, Ross Douglas 
 and Violet Brownlee were married. In the early
 
 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 415 
 
 part of July the young husband returned to Fort 
 Meigs. He served throughout the war, as scout 
 and guide, with credit to himself and advantage to 
 his country's cause. 
 
 Bright Wing went with his white friend, and 
 was his companion in many a perilous enterprise. 
 Farley and Duke remained at Franklinton, with La 
 Violette. 
 
 " I am loth to have you go, Ross," she said when 
 he informed her of his purpose. ' ' You may never 
 come back to me. Still, do whatever you feel is 
 your duty I would not hold you back. Your 
 country is my country now. God bless and keep 
 you I " 
 
 Fondly kissing her, he bade her farewell. At the 
 door of the cabin that was his temporary abode, he 
 met Farley. The eccentric Joe held out his hands, 
 saying : 
 
 " Good-by, Ross Douglas. I hope this trip'll be 
 as lucky to you as y'r last one I do, by ginger ! 
 I'll take good keer o' y'r purp an' the little woman. 
 An' if you git killed, I'll marry L,a Violette myself 
 I will, by King Solerman's six hundred wives ! 
 I think she's kind o' struck with my good looks an' 
 beauty a' ready I do, by " 
 
 "Good-by, Joe good-by! " Ross interrupted, 
 smiling. " L,et no harm befall her, old friend. 
 Good-by !" 
 
 And he was gone, leaving Farley staring after 
 him.
 
 416 THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET 
 
 At the close of the war, the young couple went to 
 Quebec, to obtain possession of their property. L,a 
 Violette's relative was dead ; and she had no diffi- 
 culty in proving her title to the estate. Ross, with 
 some trouble, obtained the bulk of his father's 
 fortune. Turning their real estate into money, 
 they returned to the land they loved to the shel- 
 ter of the Stars and Stripes. To the day of his 
 death, Ross Douglas wore the ring that had finally 
 brought him such good fortune the gift of L,a 
 Violette the Sign of the Prophet.
 
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