The　Scouts　of　the　Valley
  by　Joseph　A。　Altsheler
  CHAPTER　I
  THE　LONE　CANOE
  A　light　canoe　of　bark；　containing　a　single　human　figure；　moved　swiftly　up　one　of　the　twin　streams　that　form　the　Ohio。　　The　water；　clear　and　deep；　coming　through　rocky　soil；　babbled　gently　at　the　edges；　where　it　lapped　the　land；　but　in　the　center　the　full　current　flowed　steadily　and　without　noise。
  The　thin　shadows　of　early　dusk　were　falling；　casting　a　pallid　tint　over　the　world；　a　tint　touched　here　and　there　with　living　fire　from　the　sun；　which　was　gone；　though　leaving　burning　embers　behind。　　One　glowing　shaft；　piercing　straight　through　the　heavy　forest　that　clothed　either　bank；　fell　directly　upon　the　figure　in　the　boat；　as　a　hidden　light　illuminates　a　great　picture；　while　the　rest　is　left　in　shadow。　　It　was　no　common　forest　runner　who　sat　in　the　middle　of　the　red　beam。　　Yet　a　boy；　in　nothing　but　years；　he　swung　the　great　paddle　with　an　ease　and　vigor　that　the　strongest　man　in　the　West　might　have　envied。　　His　rifle；　with　the　stock　carved　beautifully；　and　the　long；　slender　blue　barrel　of　the　border；　lay　by　his　side。　　He　could　bring　the　paddle　into　the　boat；　grasp　the　rifle；　and　carry　it　to　his　shoulder　with　a　single；　continuous　movement。
  His　most　remarkable　aspect；　one　that　the　casual　observer　even　would　have　noticed；　was　an　extraordinary　vitality。　　He　created　in　the　minds　of　those　who　saw　him　a　feeling　that　he　lived　intensely　every　moment　of　his　life。　　Born　and…bred　in　the　forest；　he　was　essentially　its　child；　a　perfect　physical　being；　trained　by　the　utmost　hardship　and　danger；　and　with　every　faculty；　mental　and　physical；　in　complete　coordination。　　It　is　only　by　a　singular　combination　of　time　and　place；　and　only　once　in　millions　of　chances；　that　Nature　produces　such　a　being。
  The　canoe　remained　a　few　moments　in　the　center　of　the　red　light；　and　its　occupant；　with　a　slight　swaying　motion　of　the　paddle；　held　it　steady　in　the　current；　while　he　listened。　　Every　feature　stood　out　in　the　glow；　the　firm　chin；　the　straight　strong　nose；　the　blue　eyes；　and　the　thick　yellow　hair。　　The　red　blue；　and　yellow　beads　on　his　dress　of　beautifully　tanned　deerskin　flashed　in　the　brilliant　rays。　　He　was　the　great　picture　of　fact；　not　of　fancy；　a　human　being　animated　by　a　living；　dauntless　soul。
  He　gave　the　paddle　a　single　sweep　and　shot　from　the　light　into　the　shadow。　　His　canoe　did　not　stop　until　it　grazed　the　northern　shore；　where　bushes　and　overhanging　boughs　made　a　deep　shadow。　　It　would　have　taken　a　keen　eye　now　to　have　seen　either　the　canoe　or　its　occupant；　and　Henry　Ware　paddled　slowly　and　without　noise　in　the　darkest　heart　of　the　shadow。
  The　sunlight　lingered　a　little　longer　in　the　center　of　the　stream。　　Then　the　red　changed　to　pink。　　The　pink；　in　its　turn；　faded；　and　the　whole　surface　of　the　river　was　somber　gray；　flowing　between　two　lines　of　black　forest。
  The　coming　of　the　darkness　did　not　stop　the　boy。　　He　swung　a　little　farther　out　into　the　stream；　where　the　bushes　and　hanging　boughs　would　not　get　in　his　way；　and　continued　his　course　with　some　increase　of　speed。
  The　great　paddle　swung　swiftly　through　the　water；　and　the　length　of　stroke　was　amazing；　but　the　boy's　breath　did　not　come　faster；　and　the　muscles　on　his　arms　and　shoulders　rippled　as　if　it　were　the　play　of　a　child。　　Henry　was　in　waters　unknown　to　him。　　He　had　nothing　more　than　hearsay　upon　which　to　rely；　and　he　used　all　the　wilderness　caution　that　he　had　acquired　through　nature　and　training。　　He　called　into　use　every　faculty　of　his　perfect　physical　being。　　His　trained　eyes　continually　pierced　the　darkness。　　At　times；　he　stopped　and　listened　with　ears　that　could　hear　the　footfall　of　the　rabbit；　but　neither　eye　nor　ear　brought　report　of　anything　unusual。　　The　river　flowed　with　a　soft；　sighing　sound。　　Now　and　then　a　wild　creature　stirred　in　the　forest；　and　once　a　deer　came　down　to　the　margin　to　drink；　but　this　was　the　ordinary　life　of　the　woods；　and　he　passed　it　by。
  He　went　on；　hour　after　hour。　　The　river　narrowed。　　The　banks　grew　higher　and　rockier；　and　the　water；　deep　and　silvery　under　the　moon；　flowed　in　a　somewhat　swifter　current。　　Henry　gave　a　little　stronger　sweep　to　the　paddle；　and　the　speed　of　the　canoe　was　maintained。　　He　still　kept　within　the　shadow　of　the　northern　bank。
  He　noticed　after　a　while　that　fleecy　vapor　was　floating　before　the　moon。　　The　night　seemed　to　be　darkening；　and　a　rising　wind　came　out　of　the　southwest。　　The　touch　of　　the　air　on；　his　face　was　damp。　　It　was　the　token　of　rain；　and　he　felt　that　it　would　not　be　delayed　long。
  It　was　no　part　of　his　plan　to　be　caught　in　a　storm　on　the　Monongahela。　　Besides　the　discomfort；　heavy　rain　and　wind　might　sink　his　frail　canoe；　and　he　looked　for　a　refuge。　　The　river　was　widening　again；　and　the　banks　sank　down　until　they　were　but　little　above　the　water。　　Presently　he　saw　a　place　that　he　knew　would　be　suitable；　a　stretch　of　thick　bushes　and　weeds　growing　into　the　very　edge　of　the　water；　and　extending　a　hundred　yards　or　more　along　the　shore。
  He　pushed　his　canoe　far　into　the　undergrowth；　and　then　stopped　it　in　shelter　so　close　that；　keen　as　his　own　eyes　were；　he　could　scarcely　see　the　main　stream　of　the　river。　　The　water　where　he　came　to　rest　was　not　more　than　a　foot　deep；　but　he　remained　in　the　canoe；　half　reclining　and　wrapping　closely　around　himself　and　his　rifle　a　beautiful　blanket　woven　of　the　tightest　fiber。
  His　position；　with　his　head　resting　on　the　edge　of　the　canoe　and　his　shoulder　pressed　against　the　side；　was　full　of　comfort　to　him；　and　he　awaited　calmly　whatever　might　come。　　Here　and　there　were　little　spaces　among　the　leaves　overhead；　and　through　them　he　saw　a　moon；　now　almost　hidden　by　thick　and　rolling　vapors；　and　a　sky　that　had　grown　dark　and　somber。　　The　last　timid　star　had　ceased　to　twinkle；　and　the　rising　wind　was　wet　and　cold。　　He　was　glad　of　the　blanket；　and；　skilled　forest　runner　that　he　was；　he　never　traveled　without　it。　　Henry　remained　perfectly　still。　　The　light　canoe　did　not　move　beneath　his　weight　the　fraction　of　an　inch。　　His　upturned　eyes　saw　the　little　cubes　of　sky　that　showed　through　the　leaves　grow　darker　and　darker。　　The　bushes　about　him　were　now　bending　before　the　wind；　which　blew　steadily　from　the　south；　and　presently　drops　of　rain　began　to　fall　lightly　on　the　water。
  The　boy；　alone　in　the　midst　of　all　that　vast　wilderness；　surrounded　by　danger　in　its　most　cruel　forms；　and　with　a　black　midnight　sky　above　him；　felt　neither　fear　nor　awe。　　Being　what　nature　and　circumstance　had　made　him；　he　was　conscious；　instead；　of　a　deep　sense　of　peace　and　comfort。　　He　was　at　ease；　in　a　nest　for　the　night；　and　there　was　only　the　remotest　possibility　that　the　prying　eye　of　an　enemy　would　see　him。　　The　leaves　directly　over　his　head　were　so　thick　that　they　formed　a　canopy；　and；　as　he　heard　the　drops　fall　upon　them；　it　was　like　the　rain　on　a　roof；　that　soothes　the　one　beneath　its　shelter。
  Distant　lightning　flared　once　or　twice；　and　low　thunder　rolled　along　the　southern　horizon；　but　both　soon　ceased；　and　then　a　rain；　not　hard；　but　cold　and　persistent；　began　to　fall；　coming　straight　down。　　Henry　saw　that　it　might　last　all　night；　but　he　merely　eased　himself　a　little　in　the　canoe；　drew　the　edges　of　the　blanket　around　his　chin；　and　let　his　eyelids　droop。
  The　rain　was　now　seeping　through　the　leafy　canopy　of　green；　but　he　did　not　care。　　It　could　not　penetrate　the　close　fiber　of　the　blanket；　and　the　fur　cap　drawn　far　down　on　his　head　met　the　blanket。　　Only　his　face　was　uncovered；　and　when　a　cold　drop　fell　upon　it；　it　was　to　him；　hardened　by　forest　life；　cool　and　pleasant　to　the　touch。
  Although　the　eyelids　still　drooped；　he　did　not　yet　feel　the　tendency　to　sleep。　　It　was　merely　a　deep；　luxurious　rest；　with　the　body　completely　relaxed；　but　with　the　senses　alert。　　The　wind　ceased　to　blow；　and　the　rain　came　down　straight　with　an　even　beat　that　was　not　unmusical。　　No　other　sound　was　heard　in　the　forest；　as　the　ripple　of　the　river　at　the　edges　was　merged　into　it。　　Henry　began　to　feel　the　desire　for　sleep　by　and　by；　and；　laying　the　paddle　across　the　boat　in　such　a　way　that　it　sheltered　his　face；　he　closed　his　eyes。　　In　five　minutes　he　would　have　been　sleeping　as　soundly　as　a　man　in　a　warm　bed　under　a　roof；　but　with　a　quick　motion　he　suddenly　put　the　paddle　aside　and　raised　himself　a　little　in　the　canoe；　while　one　hand　slipped　down　under　the　folds　of　the　blanket　to　the　hammer　of　his　rifle。
  His　ear　had　told　him　in　time　that　there　was　a　new　sound　on　the　river。　　He　heard　it　faintly　above　the　even　beat　of　the　rain；　a　soft　sound；　long　and　sighing；　but　regular。　　He　listened；　and　then　he　knew　it。　　It　was　made　by　oars；　many　of　them　swung　in　unison；　keeping　admirable　time。
  Henry　did　not　yet　feel　fear；　although　it　must　be　a　long　boat　full　of　Indian　warriors；　as　it　was　not　likely；　that　anybody　else　would　be　abroad　upon　these　waters　at　such　a　time。　　He　made　no　attempt　to　move。　　Where　he　lay　it　was　black　as　the　darkest　cave；　and　his　cool　judgment　told　him　that　there　was　no　need　of　flight。
  The　regular　rhythmic　beat　of　the　oars　came　nearer；　and　presently　as　he　looked　through　the　covert　of　leaves　the　dusky　outline　of　a　great　war　canoe　came　into　view。　　It　contained　at　least　twenty　warriors；　of　what　tribe　he