Ephraim Yeates was gone a full hour. When he returned he gave us cause to wonder at his lack of caution, since he filled his earthen Indian pipe and coolly struck a light wherewith to fire it. But when the pipe was aglow¹ he told us of his findings.  
"'Twas about ez I reckoned; them varmints waded³ in the shallows a spell to throw us off, and then came out and forded higher up."
 
"That will be a shrewd guess of yours, I take it, Ephraim?" said I; for the night was black as Erebus.
 
"Ne'er a guess at all; I've had 'em fair at eyeholts," this as calmly as if we had not been for ten long days pinning our faith to an ill-defined trace of foot-prints. "Ez I was a-going on to say, they're incamped on t'other bank ruther eenside o' two sights and a horn-blow from this. I saw 'em and counted 'em: seven redskins and the two gals⁶."
 
"Thank God!" says Richard, as fervently⁷ as if our rescue of the women were already a thing accomplished⁸. Then he fell upon the scout⁹ with an eager question: "How does she look, Ephraim?—tell me how she looks!"
 
"Listen at him!" said the old man, cackling his dry little laugh. "How in tarnation am I going to know which 'she' he's a-stewing about? There's a pair of 'em, and they both look like wimmin ez have been dragged hilter-skilter through the big woods for some better 'n a week. Natheless, they're fitting to set up and take their nourishment¹⁰, both on 'em. They was perching on a log afore the fire, with ever' last idintical one o' them redskins a-waiting on 'em like they was a couple of Injun queens. I reckon ez how the hoss-captain gave them varmints their orders, partic'lar."
 
Dick was upon his feet, lugging¹¹ out the great broadsword.
 
"Show us the way, Eph Yeates!" he burst out impatiently. "We are wasting a deal of precious time!"
 
But the old man only puffed¹² the more placidly¹³ at his pipe, making no move to head a sortie.
 
"Fair and easy, Cap'n Dick; fair and easy. There ain't no manner o' hurry, ez I allow. Whenst I've got to tussle¹⁴ with a wheen o' full redskins, and me with my stummick growed fast to my backbone¹⁵, I jest ez soon wait till them same redskins are asleep. Bime-by they'll settle down for the night, and then we'll go up yonder and pizen 'em immejitly, if not sooner. But there ain't no kind o' use to spile it all by rampaging 'round too soon."
 
There was wisdom undeniable in this, and, accordingly, we waited, taking turns at the hunter's terrible pipe in lieu of supper, and laying our plan of attack. This last was simple enough, as our resources, or rather our lack of them, would make it. At midnight we would move upon the enemy, feeling our way along the river till we should discover the ford⁴ by which the captive party had crossed. The stream safely passed, we would deploy¹⁶ and surround the camp of the Indians, and at the signal, which was to be the report of Yeates's rifle, we were to close in and smite¹⁷, giving no quarter.
 
The old borderer dwelt at length upon the need for this severity, saying that a single Cherokee escaping would bring the warriors¹⁸ of the Erati tribe down upon us to cut off all chance of our retreat with the women.
 
"Onless I'm mightily²⁰ out o' my reckoning, this here spot we're a-setting on ain't more than a day's Injun-running from the Tuckasege Towns. With them gals to hender us we ain't a-going to be in no fettle for a skimper-scamper race with a fresh wheen o' the redskins. Therefore and wherefore, says I, make them chopping-knives o' your'n cut and come again, even to the dividing erpart of soul and marrer."
 
Dick laughed, and, speaking for both of us, said between his teeth that we were not like to be over-merciful.
 
But now the old wolf of the border gave us a glimpse of an unsuspected side of him, taking Jennifer sharply to task and reading him a homily on the sin of vengeance²¹ for vengeance's sake. In this harangue²² he evinced a most astonishing tongue-grasp of Scripture²³, and for a good half-hour the air was thick with texts. And to cap the climax²⁴, when the sermon paused he laid his pipe aside, doffed²⁵ his cap, and went upon his knees to pour forth²⁶ such a militant²⁷ prayer as brought my father's stories of the grim old fighting Roundheads most vividly²⁸ to mind.
 
Here, being as good a place as any, I may say frankly²⁹ that I never fully³⁰ understood this side of Ephraim Yeates. Like all the hardy³¹ borderers, he was a fighter by instinct and inclination³²; and I can bear him witness that when he smote³³ the "Amalekites," as he would call them—red skin or red coat—he smote them hip³⁴ and thigh³⁵, and was as ruthless as that British Captain Turnbull who slew³⁶ the wounded. Yet withal, on the very edge of battle, or mayhap fair in the midst of it, he was like to fall upon his knees to pray most fervently; though, as I have hinted, his prayers were like his blows—of the biting sort, full of Scriptural anathema³⁷ upon the enemy.
 
Richard Jennifer, carelessly profane³⁸ as all men were in that most godless day, would say 'twas the old borderer's way of swearing; that since he left out the oaths in common speech,—as, truly, he did,—he would fetch up the arrears³⁹ and wipe out the score in one fell blast upon his knees. Be this as it may, he was a good man and a true, as I have said; and his warlike supplication⁴¹ that our blades should be as the sword of the Lord and of Gideon in the coming onfall was no whit⁴² out of place.
 
It wanted yet a full hour of midnight when Richard began again to plead piteously for instant action. Yeates thought it still over-early; but when Jennifer pressed him hard the old borderer left the casting vote to me.
 
"What say ye, Cap'n John? Your'n will be the next oldest head, and I reckon it hain't been turned plumb⁴³ foolish rampaging crazy by this here purty gal⁵ o' Gilbert Stair's."
 
Now you have read thus far in my poor tale to little purpose if you have not yet discovered the major weakness of an old campaigner, which is to weigh and measure all the chances, holding it to the full as culpable⁴⁴ to strike too soon as too late. This weakness was mine, and in that evil moment I gave my vote for further waiting, arguing sapiently⁴⁵ that my old field-marshal would never set a night assault afoot till well on toward the dawn.
 
Jennifer heard me through and yielded, perforce, though with little good-will.
 
"I can not compass it alone, or, by the gods, I'd go!" he asserted, angrily. "Mark you, John Ireton, this delay is a thing you'll rue⁴⁰ whilst you live. Your cold-cut pros⁴⁶ and cons⁴⁷ mouth well enough, and I'm no soldier-lawyer to argue them down. But something better than your damnable reasons tells me that the hour has struck—that these very present seconds are priceless." Whereupon he flung himself face down in the grass and would not speak again until the waiting time was fully over and Yeates gave the word to fall in line for the advance.
 
Having learned the lay of the land in his earlier reconnaissance, the old borderer shortened the distance for us by guiding us across the neck of a horseshoe bend in the stream; and a half-hour's blind groping through the forest fetched us out upon the river bank again, this time precisely⁴⁸ opposite the Indians' lodge⁴⁹ fire on the other side.
 
Here there was a little pause for three of us while Ephraim Yeates crept down the bank to try with his sounding-pole what chance we had of crossing.
 
Measured by what could be seen from our covert⁵⁰, the narrow width of quick water seemed the last of the many obstacles.
 
Lulled⁵¹ to security, as we guessed, by the apparent success of their ruse⁵² to throw us off the scent⁵³, six of the Cherokees were lying feet to fire like the spokes⁵⁵ of a wheel for which the fitful blaze was the hub. The seventh man was squatted⁵⁶ before a small tepee-lodge of dressed skins, which, as we took it, would be the sleeping quarters of the captives. Whilst all the others lay stiff and stark⁵⁷ as if wrapped in soundest sleep, this sentry⁵⁸ guard, too, it seemed, was scarcely more than half awake, for as we looked, his gun was slipping from the hollow of his arm and he was nodding to forgetfulness.
 
Richard was a-crouch beside me in this peeping reconnaissance, and I could feel him trembling in impatient eagerness.
 
"It should be easy enough—what think you?" he whispered; and then, with a sudden grasp upon my wrist: "You are cool and steady-nerved, John Ireton; I swear you do not love her as I do!"
 
"Nay⁵⁹, I grant you that, Dick," said I, making sure that his excitement would obscure the double meaning in the admission. And then I added, sincerely enough: "She has never given me the right to love her at all."
 
"God help her at this pass!" he said, more to himself than to me; and then he would go in a breath from blessing⁶⁰ Margery to cursing Ephraim Yeates for this fresh delay.
 
It was Uncanoola who broke in upon the muttered malediction⁶¹.
 
"Wah! Captain Jennif' cuss plenty heap, like missionary⁶² medicine-man. Look-see! Uncanoola no can find white squaw horse yonder. Mebbe Captain Jennif' see 'um, hey?"
 
At his word we both looked for the horses, marking now that they were nowhere to be seen within the circle lighted by the lodge fire. The Catawba grunted⁶³ his doubt that the enemy was as inalert as he appeared to be; then he set the doubt in words. "Chelakee heap slick. Sleep only one eye, mebbe, hey? Injun warrior¹⁹ no hide horse and go sleep both eye on war-path!"
 
Here our scout came gliding⁶⁴ back, so noiselessly that he was within arm's reach before we heard him. Dick had said I was over-cool, but the old man's ghostlike reappearance gave me such a start as made me prinkle to my fingers' ends.
 
"How will it be, Eph?" Dick queried⁶⁵, hotly eager to be at work. "We can make it across? Never say we can't pass that bit of still water, man!"
 
But Ephraim Yeates did say so in set terms.
 
"I reckon ez how we've got to cross, but not je............