“Hello, Jim,” exclaimed Mark, “you are just the chap I have been looking for! Now I will show you what a white boy can do in the way of giving a rascally Indian a good beating.”

Expecting to meet with a most stubborn resistance, Mark’s attack was furious and determined, indeed; but to his great surprise, the young savage raised his arms above his head, and suffered himself to be thrown to the ground without even a show of opposition.

“No hurt! no hurt, white boy!” he exclaimed, excitedly. “Me no Jim—me Mark; me Mark Two Times.”

Mark, who grew more and more astonished, and who was above striking an unresisting foe, released his hold on the Indian’s throat, and the latter began a long speech, talking very 279rapidly and sometimes in his eagerness forgetting the little English he knew, and jabbering away in his native tongue.

But Mark understood the most of what he said, and after listening to him a short time, he helped him to his feet, brushed off the mud that adhered to his hunting shirt, and drawing the Indian’s arm through his own, led him toward the house, talking to him all the while in the most friendly manner.

What had brought about this sudden change in Mark’s feelings toward the young savage? I will explain it in my own way, without inflicting Jim’s broken English upon you.

I do not know that the custom exists among other Indians, but the Choctaws had a habit of naming themselves. If they met a white man whom they greatly liked, they adopted his name, discarding the one by which they had formerly been known. This was a sure sign of friendship, and the man thus honored could trust his namesake to any extent.

Jim admired the courage Mark exhibited on the day he stood his ground against Pete and his friends, and out of compliment to him, he 280had dropped his own name and assumed the title of “Mark the Second,” or, as he expressed it, “Mark Two Times.”

Of course, Mark was highly flattered by this show of respect, but believing, with a good many others in the settlement, that there was nothing good in an Indian, he did not know how much dependence to place upon his new ally.

“You’re a grand rascal, Jim,” he began.

“Me no Jim; me Mark Two Times,” insisted the wrestler.

“Well then, Mark Two Times, I am afraid you are a slippery customer. If you are really a friend to our fellows, as you profess to be, how does it come that you assisted Luke Redman and his band during the fight at the camp? Explain that, if you can.”

The Indian could and did. He accounted for that act of seeming unfriendliness by saying that he had joined the attacking party for no other purpose than to learn their plans, and that as long as he remained in their company he was obliged to act with them, in order to avoid exciting their suspicions. While the 281Swamp Dragoons and their allies were taking up their positions preparatory to making the assault, he had watched and waited in vain for an opportunity to slip away from them, and warn us of our danger.

He then went on to say that after the fight Luke Redman had given him two letters—one to be left on General Mason’s doorstep, and the other on our own. He had delivered the first, but he had given it into the general’s own hands, and told him just where to go to find the robbers.

After that, he had come to our house and waited for an opportunity to speak to Mark; and the reason he had dodged behind the bushes was because his courage failed him at the last moment, and he feared that he might meet with a warmer reception than he had bargained for.

He wound up his story by telling Mark that I was a prisoner, and that if he would trust to his guidance, he would lead him by a short route to my place of confinement.

“Of course I will go with you,” said Mark, highly excited over this last piece of news; 282“but bear one thing in mind, and that is, if you attempt to come any of your Indian tricks over me, it will be worse for you.”

While Mark was conversing with the young savage, mother had twice appeared at the door and called him to breakfast—a summons that he could not now think of answering.

In the first place, he did not want to waste an instant of time, and another thing, he was afraid mother might ask him if Jim had brought any news concerning me; and as he did not care to alarm her by revealing the real facts of the case, he thought it best to keep out of her sight.

He crept carefully to the porch, unhitched his horse, and succeeded in leading the animal out of the yard without attracting the attention of any one in the house.

The young Indian was already in the saddle, and as soon as Mark came out, he led the way at a rapid gallop toward the swamp.

They passed the camp which had been the scene of the conflict, crossed the bayou at the ford about a mile above Dead Man’s Elbow, and at three o’clock in the afternoon drew rein 283within sight of the cane-brake in which Luke Redman’s hiding-place was situated, without having once been out of the saddle, or even stopping to rest.

During all this time Mark had kept a bright lookout for the settlers, but had not seen one of them.

“Now, white boy,” said the Indian, after carefully reconnoitering the ground before him, “no time for foolin’. Do just like me.”

Mark followed his guide’s instructions to the very letter. He dismounted when the Indian did, and after hitching his horse, followed close at his heels as he wormed his way through the cane, stepping exactly in his tracks, and imitating as nearly as possible his cautious, stealthy movements.

Presently they came to a halt on the bank of the bayou. The Indian looked up and down the stream several times, carefully scrutinizing every thicket within the range of his vision, to make sure that there was no one in sight, and then stepped into the water and struck out for the island, still closely followed by Mark, who held his gun and powder-flask above 284his head with one hand and swam with the other. When they reached the bank they plunged into the cane again, and in a few minutes more were crouching in a thicket of bushes at the foot of the bluff against which Luke Redman’s house was built.

“Now, white boy,” said Jim, “you stay here, and me go and look.”

The Indian glided out of sight as he spoke, and for the next half-hour Mark sat there in the bushes with his back against a tree and his double-barrel resting across his knees, awaiting his return.

As he had never been on the island before, he knew nothing of Luke Redman’s stronghold; but he did know that the outlaw and his gang were not a great way off, for he could hear the sound of their voices.

The angry tones which reached his ears told him that a heated discussion was going on—it was about this time that Luke Redman announced his determination to burn us out if we did not give up the money—and Mark listened intently, hoping to obtain some clew that would guide him in his search for me.

285Where was I? What sort of a situation was I in? and what could he do to help me? were the questions he was constantly asking himself, and which were answered in a way he had not dreamed of.

At length there was a lull in the conversation, which continued about fifteen minutes, and then Mark saw dense volumes of smoke rising above the cane. At the same moment he heard voices and a crashing in the bushes close by, and, looking in the direction from which the sound proceeded, he discovered Barney and his brother Jake coming up the bank of the bayou. They seemed to be very much interested in the conversation they were carrying on, and little dreaming that there was an enemy so near them, they walked ............