“We will soon escape,” whispered the older youth. “Wait until evening arrives and then I will show you how to creep away from these horrible savages.”
Lewis had been severely wounded by an arrow, but he stoically bore the pain, and trudged behind his captors with no show of ill humor. The Indian prisoner who lagged, or who made a cry of distress, would be speedily dispatched by the savages, and this he knew. The other boy went bravely ahead and said nothing.
Through the wilderness walked the red men, and on the night of the second day they camped twenty miles beyond the Ohio River.
“Ugh!” spoke a brave. “These children cannot escape us now. We will not bind them with thongs this evening, but will allow them to go free.”
The savages had underestimated the daring courage which was in the heart of Lewis Wetzel. No sooner were the red men fast asleep, when, touching his brother with his hand, Lewis warned him to keep absolutely silent and to follow him away into the darkness. They were barefoot.
“It is impossible for us to escape without moccasins,” said Lewis, after they had gone some distance. “This ground is full of stones, and our feet will be ruined. You wait here for me and I will return to the camp and get a pair for each of us, and then we can easily travel through the wilderness.”
The brave boy not only secured the moccasins but also returned with a gun and some ammunition. Then on they plunged through the forest. Just as the first streaks of dawn began to light up the gloomy depths, behind them echoed the shouts of their enemies, the red men.
“Walk backward upon your trail, brother,” said Lewis Wetzel. “Then turn to the right and secrete yourself in the dense undergrowth. These red men will soon catch up to us and we must be thoroughly hidden.”
This advice was followed, and it was well, for the boys had lain in the covert but a few minutes when their captors came bounding past. They were yelling to each other and were furious with anger at having lost their prisoners. The two Wetzels waited until they were out of sight. When the yelping had ceased they crept from their hiding-place and ran away to the right. In a few hours they heard the Indians again returning, and, secreting themselves in some underbrush, saw some savages dash by on ponies. They were not the same red men whom they had first seen, but these, also, could not find them. When the redskins were well beyond hearing, the terrified children ran to the river, fastened two logs together, and succeeded in crossing it. Not long afterwards they reached the house of a frontiersman and knew that they were safe. When they told him their story, he showed great surprise.
“Bully for you, boys!” cried the man of the clearing. “You, Lewis, showed particular courage and daring. You are a credit to your poor father, who is, I hear, terribly overcome by this butchery of the redskins. I trust that you will both live long and useful lives upon the border.”