above his head, while he waved a rag that might have once been white, came forward.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Tom. "It's a flag of truce! He wants to talk with us I believe!"
"Bless my cartridges!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Can they speak English?"
"A little," answered Abe Abercrombie. "I can talk some of their lingo, too. Maybe I'd better see what they want."
"I guess it would be a good plan," suggested Tom, and, accordingly the old miner stepped forward. The Indian came on, until Abe motioned for him to halt.
"I reckon that's as far as it'll be healthy for you t' come," spoke Abe, grimly. "Now what do you fellers want?"
Thereupon there ensued a rapid exchange of jargon between the miner and the Indian. Abe seemed much relieved as the talk went on, until there came what seemed like a demand on the part of the dark-hued native.
"No, you don't! None of that!" muttered Abe. "If you had your way you'd take everything we have."
"What is it? What does he want?" asked Tom in a low voice.
"Why, the beggar began fair enough," replied the miner. "He said one of their number had
