"I'll tell yer. It war a case with him of kill or cure, as you'll agree as I get on with the story. And he didn't come straight to me to ask what I thought of the business. Joe war his name, and a kid chuck-full of larnin'. Wall, seems he got rummagin' in the place whar his father stored the stuff he traded with the Injuns, and then slips outer the door.
"'Joe's gone out ter see what he kin do with 'em,' says Hal, his brother, comin' across the shanty to where I was watchin'. 'Jest see you don't shoot him.'
"Yer kin guess I was mighty surprised. 'Gone outside!' I cried. 'Why, they'll shoot him quicker than ever I shall. What for? What's he doin'?'"
"Hal hadn't a notion, and so, seein' as something precious bad might come of it, I slipped out of the shanty to join him. And when I came to the edge of the stockade whar we reckoned the Injuns was diggin', there warn't a doubt that they was there, on the far side of the woodwork, precious near ready to break through and finish the matter. Joe war there, lyin' on his face, and sense I knew they'd hear me ef I even whispered, I laid down beside him and learned what he was doin'. He was diggin' fast with his fingers, tearin' the turf and soil away bit by bit, and makin' not so much as a sound to give the enemy a warnin'. Within four feet of him, perhaps, there was Injuns workin' at the same game, cuttin' the earth away with their knives and tomahawks, and ef I was asked to guess their true position, I should say as they were closer even than that, and in a little while would be carving their way into the hole which Joe war making.
"Two foot ahead of Joe there war a dark object, and when I crept across to feel around it, and see what it was, you kin guess I jest started. It war a powder keg, same as we carry, already opened, and ready for firin'."
There was excitement now on the faces of the men gathered round the camp fire. Excitement and some curiosity. For difficulty and danger were everyday affairs to these scouts, and a tale which demonstrated the cunning of the Indians, and the bravery and resource of those who were opposed to this deadly enemy, was always sure of an attentive hearing. Tom drew in a deep breath, while Steve grunted.
"Powder," he said, as if he were thinking deeply. "That war a kill-or-cure remedy sure! Seems to me that ef you could be sartin of gettin' the hull crowd of the Injuns close together, yer might kill a heap and scare the rest so badly as to make 'em ride away. But ef yer failed, why, it stands to reason yer would blow a hole through your stockade big enough to allow a hull tribe of the critters to pass, and might jest as well be askin' fer a funeral. Get along, Jacob. Yer make a man want to be tellin' the story hisself, instead of waitin' fer you."
"It war a case of kill or cure," agreed the burly scout, ignoring Steve's remarks, "but Joe warn't the boy to spoil his plan for a bit of waitin'. He finished that hole while I lay thar, and popped in his keg extry careful. Then he rammed the earth round it with his fists, laid his fuse, and sat listenin'.
"'We'll wait till one of them strikes the keg with his knife,' he whispered, fer the Injuns happened to be making a tidy heap of noise, and so there warn't no fear of their hearin'. 'That'll be the time ter fire it.'
"And jest yer remember to lie as flat as yer kin when yer put down the match,' I answered. 'The explosion of that powder will smash the stockade to pieces, and I ain't so sure as it won't wreck the shanty.'