The other warriors are coming up and they'll kill you sure if you don't jump.

Jump, and I'll tell 'em I chased you over." Sam knew Weatherford well, and he knew why the blood-thirsty chief wished to spare him if he could, for Sam had rescued Weatherford once from an imminent peril at great risk to himself, though the story is too long to be told here.

Whether or not there is nobleness enough in the Indian character to make the savage remember a benefit received, I am sure I cannot say, but Weatherford was _three-fourths white_, and with all his ferocity in war, history credits him with more than one generous impulse like that by which Sam was now profiting.

The two rode on, Weatherford pretending to be in hot pursuit, shooting occasionally and yelling at every leap of his horse.

The bluff towards which they rode was probably a hundred feet high, and was washed at its base by a deep but sluggish creek, on the other side of which lay a densely wooded swamp.