The vigilance of Nicholas sniffed out any overbold mouse that ventured within, while the boys’ watchfulness prevented any mischance from wind and rain, so that for a time all went well. They began, indeed, to feel such a sense of security that it did not seem possible anything could go amiss and it appeared that, when Oscar returned, the report given him would be quite barren of adventure. Hugh, however, thinking of those footprints by the stream, still remembered that what danger did lurk about them was bound to be unsuspected and unseen.
It had been, one day, Hugh’s turn to replenish the empty larder so that he had spent the whole afternoon fishing about a mile from the cottage. Dusk was just beginning, yet he lingered for “just one more bite,” since luck had not been good and he wished to carry home enough fish for one meal at least. He waited long for a nibble, shifting impatiently from foot to foot.
“It must be getting too cold for fishing,” he commented to himself. “Why, it feels like winter all of a sudden; it has changed a great deal since morning.”
He had just pulled in a flopping trout and had dropped it into the basket when a sudden sound startled him so that he dropped his rod. It was the sharp crack of a rifle, followed immediately by a second and a third, the prearranged signal of alarm. The pirates had struck at last!
A mile is a long way to run when the course is over a heavily wooded ridge and through a valley of poplar thickets. Hugh covered it in extraordinarily short time, although it seemed to him unnumbered hours. He was just coming, panting, up the last slope, when he met Dick, equally breathless, running toward him.
“It’s Hulda,” gasped his friend. “The Indians are trying to drive her off; they have headed her away off yonder, over the hill.”
He pointed, for even as he spoke, they caught sight of Hulda crossing a clearing, running with the awkward gait common to excited cows and lowing her amazement and dismay at the indignity put upon her.
“You strike across the ridge and I will run down into the valley,” directed Dick. “I think I can head her off. They sha’n’t steal Hulda!”
With a shout, the two boys plunged to the rescue. Hugh was quick enough to reach her, halfway down the slope, but totally unable to check her course. The mild Hulda, now thoroughly alarmed, came down the hill with a blind rush, blundered against him and rolled him head over heels. He picked himself up, unhurt, and ran after her in determined pursuit. Indeed the pirates were not to be allowed the triumph of stealing Hulda!
On the more open ground below Dick succeeded in slowing her a little and Nicholas, flying through the thickets, like a streak of white lightning, to leap and bark beneath her very nose, managed to turn her back up the hill. Here the boys were able to gain on her terrified speed once more, and, on Hugh’s closing in and turning her again, she ran close by Dick, who triumphantly seized her by the halter and brought her to a standstill.