It is hard for us to understand in these days what a peril and a menace to frontier life these hostile Indians were. Every little while word would come of some family wiped out by the uprising of a nearby tribe and no one could tell at just what moment these onslaughts might come.

Everyone went armed, not only for the sake of the game which provided much of the food on which the pioneers lived, but also as a guard against any surprise attack of warlike redmen. It is needless to state the country abounded in “crack shots,” as the most skillful in the use of the rifle were termed. Ammunition was scarce and no one could afford to waste powder or bullets. Consequently they made every shot count and it was wonderful to see the skill some of our early settlers acquired with the rifle. In this sport, or rather in this serious business, no one in the region surpassed Joseph Hall and his brother Robert.

Through the warm spring afternoon the two brothers toiled on in the cornfield. Their hands were busy with the hoe and their minds with thoughts of Black Hawk and his warriors. The shadows grew longer, and when at last dusk crept over the land they made ready to cease work for the day. As they were preparing to stop, the call of a quail sounded from the woods close to the place where the two boys were standing. Both boys were immediately alert. A moment later the call was repeated.

“Deerfoot,” exclaimed Joseph in a low voice.

The two brothers hastened in the direction from which the call had been heard and a moment later discovered their Indian friend hiding behind a thick bush, waiting for them. He was nearly exhausted and had evidently traveled far and fast.

“What is it, Deerfoot?” exclaimed Joseph eagerly. “What is the trouble?”

The Indian was panting and a brief time elapsed before he could speak. Finally he regained his breath.

“Black Hawk, he come!” gasped Deerfoot, and he pointed toward the opposite end of the clearing.

Hardly had he uttered these words when from the direction of the Hall’s cabin came the blood-curdling sound of the Indian war whoop.

CHAPTER II
PURSUED