The closer they drew to the fleeing woman the greater her fright seemed to become.
Whenever he saw her looking backward over her shoulder Elmer would make pantomime gestures with his free hand.
He was trying the best he knew how to tell her to give over this foolish flight, and that they had no hostile intentions.
But the chances were she interpreted these movements just the other way, and believed he must be threatening her with all sorts of terrible things unless she yielded herself a prisoner to their prowess.
Well, no matter, it could hardly last more than another minute or so. Do what she would the woman must find it utterly impossible to get away.
Already the active mind of the young scout master was busy, weaving a clever scheme by means of which they could surround the woman, and by attacking her all at once, succeed in knocking the shining knife out of her hand.
No doubt he would have succeeded in doing the job, too, had conditions continued to make such a move necessary.
But they did not.
The fickle hand of Fate came in between just in time to share in the matter.
It seemed to Elmer that they were constantly getting into a more tangled mess of undergrowth. All around and ahead were traps calculated to slyly catch unwary feet and trip them up.