“I—I think not!” she gasped. “But I don’t like such tumbles at all!”
“Bad horse, to go down with Tom,” said the little boy.
“He couldn’t help it,” answered Rodney. “I am glad you are not injured,” he added, heartily, and picked the boy up in his arms while Nell arose unaided.
The horse was in a bad way, having broken his leg and dislocated his shoulder. To put him out of his misery, Rodney had one of the Indians kill him with several blows from a tomahawk. Then Nell and Tom were placed on another horse, and the party went on as before.
The next day found them once more on the regular road. Not a sign of the enemy had been seen and all began to breathe a little easier.
“I think we are out of it at last,” said Rodney. “We are getting pretty well on to the east now.”
“Right you are,” answered Casbury.
“That White Buffalo is a pretty good Injun after all, so he is,” admitted Malloy.
They had now reached what in past years had been the foremost of the homesteads along the army road. The places were burned down without exception, only the blackened ruins showing where log cabins and stables had stood. The owners had long since either fled or been killed.
“It may be a long while before this is settled again,” said Rodney.