The Indian is nothing if he is not unexpected in all his actions. Surprise attacks were ever his weapons of warfare. From among the long grass of an apparently innocent meadow he would suddenly rise up with his followers to attack the caravan that was quietly pursuing its way along the prairie in absolute ignorance of the nearness of enemies. In the dead hour of night the war-whoop would suddenly ring through the forest, and the settlers would be scalped and dead before the last echo had time to fade away.

So it was on this occasion. Utterly unsuspicious of attack, both boys were taken at a disadvantage. Bob was floundering in the water before he had time to realise the assault, while Alf was equally unprepared as the Indian sprang towards him.[Pg 165]

The claw-like fingers missed their intended grip upon the boy's throat, but the arms managed to grapple the lad in a tight embrace. Alf struggled well, but he was no match for the muscles of the giant Dacotah.

"I'm coming! I'll be with you in a second!" called Bob from the water, striking out strongly for the shore as soon as he had recovered breath.

The Indian looked hastily around him without releasing the bearlike hug. He saw the swimmer quickly approaching, and he gave a cry of fury as he thought that he would be baulked of his purpose of revenge, for he rightly thought that he would stand a poor chance against two active lads. He might succeed in injuring the one, but there was little chance of his escaping.

Suddenly he released Alf. Feeling himself free for the moment, the boy jumped back in readiness for another attack. But once again the unexpected had him at a vantage. The boy anticipated no other attack now but that of fists or a knife at the utmost. These were the only contingencies that his inexperience could imagine. But before he had time to conjecture other possibilities, Red Fox had slipped off his blanket,[Pg 166] flung it around the lad just as the ancient gladiator was wont to entangle his opponent in the deadly net, and before Arnold had reached the river bank the Indian had wound the blanket tightly round his captive, picked him up in his arms, and commenced running towards the tent.

Bob gave a cry of dismay and rushed on in pursuit.

But the redskin had the start, and ran straight towards the picketed horse, still carrying the lad, who was half stifled by the thick cloak, and practically helpless, owing to the tightness with which the bond was twined.

It would have been an easy matter then for Red Fox to have killed his captive and yet escape the other boy. But that was not his purpose. In his thirst to revenge the insult of Alf's words, he had quite forgotten Thunder-maker's commission and the coveted ermine robe. These were nothing to him now. He had listened to sneers with patience. The time had now come to repay the taunts with interest. He ran towards the pack-horse. A slash with his hunting-knife severed the rope within two or three feet of the halter. Alf was then thrown roughly across the animal's back, while the[Pg 167] Indian was himself astride an instant afterwards. A vicious dig of the heels, and the horse sprang forward.

And the last that Bob saw as he reached the tent was an ugly face grinning at him and an arm waving tauntingly as horse, rider, and burden disappeared into the woods.

Arnold was aghast!

He rushed into the tent and snatched up his repeating rifle, which was already loaded; by t............