"And how about yourself, Tom?" asked one of the settlers.
"Oh, I killed a few," said the old hunter, simply.
There was a shout from down the creek trail, and the sound of horses' hoofs, and proceeding as rapidly as possible over the uncertain trail the band from down stream entered the clearing.
"What news?" asked Professor Bill, rising from his recumbent position.
"We found the pilot and he's living, but pretty badly hurt. He was pulled on a raft by the Pegleg pilot, and they put him off at a tavern further down stream."
A cheer went up from all the assembled settlers, and the wildwood rang with their voices again and again, and then when silence had come there were various comments.
"I thought the pilot was too tough to be put out by a single bullet," said one.
"I knew that ye couldn't drown an old water dog like him," said another.
"Did they get a doctor," said Professor Bill.
"Yaas," drawled one of the returned expedition, "they got a doctor and he fixed him up, but he can't be moved yet for some time, but he'll pull through, he said. We didn't have much time fer to talk with Hugh, for we uns wanted to see about the tother fellow and the Shawnese. We went all the way to the mouth of the creek, and there we learned thet five Indians were seen crossing the river in a canoe some hours before. Now, I remembers it, some of the fellows at the mouth said they seemed in a powerful hurry, and passed over the river in the early dawn, and were making their way toward Michigan."