“Oh, shet up!” ejaculated Hill. “Him an’ Goodbrand ’ll uther dodge ’em or take th-th-the boat; blast ye, come on!”
They moved quickly and stealthily back on the course. There was no danger of their being heard, for the commotion made by the outwitted savages came every moment to their ears.
But they had not proceeded very far when the noise and commotion ceased. Mace paused and glanced back anxiously.
“Mebbe the murderin’ skunks begin ter suspict what’s happined,” he said. “Must be Rhodan an’ Goodbrand ’ll uther git back this way, ur take to thar canoe. But ef I thought—”
He suddenly ceased speaking and listened intently. A thrill war-whoop echoed through the woods in the direction of the baffled Indians. It was succeeded by a chorus of fierce shouts.
“One or both on’ ’em’s took!” exclaimed Mace, excitedly. “’Twas the price fur snatchin’ us frum death, an’ I fur one ’ll go back ag’in’ all odds!”
“Good, me hairty!” exclaimed the impulsive Irishman. “Tim Devine ’ud foller yees ef ’twas to dthe mouth of purgatory itself. Thrue as me father was a docthur!”
Ere the generous Celt had concluded, all of them had started. Each knew it might be his last tramp on earth. But not one of them would have hesitated even before more certain perils. And they hoped that Scarred Eagle might yet escape.
As they were hurrying on, a dark figure appeared suddenly before them.
“No go yit—wait,” said a low voice.