swift whiz-z! beside him and an arrow embedded itself in a sapling a few yards ahead of him. He turned swiftly and plunged into the wood. As he dropped to cover, he was conscious of a stinging pain in his left shoulder, and looking he beheld an arrow thrust into the soft part of his upper arm. Fortunately, it had no more than buried its head, and he wrenched it loose and, sinking behind a tree, held it clutched in his right hand as he peered cautiously forth. It was not much of a weapon, to be sure, but it gave him some comfort to feel even so poor a defense in his grasp. The Indians were coming toward his hiding-place at a slow trot, with many pauses. One had fitted another arrow to his bow, but the second held only his tomahawk as he advanced. Flight, as hopeless as it seemed, was David’s only course, and in an instant he was up and away, dashing from tree to tree. An arrow flew past him; footsteps sounded above the thumping of his heart. A good runner, David’s night-long journey had left him with little strength for the present task, and after a minute he saw that capture was certain, for already the swifter of the two pursuers was close behind him and he knew without looking that the
