The brushwood was thick ahead, but there was a sort of trail, made by wild animals, and he pursued this until he came to a brook. Then to keep the Indians from following them, should they come in that direction, he followed the brook for a hundred yards or more. At last he reached a point where the banks of the brook were rocky, and here he came out, and crawled over the rocks. Not far off was an opening between two large bowlders, and here he sank down, too exhausted to take another step.
It was half an hour before Peck came to his senses. In the meantime the captain had obtained some water, washed the private's wound and bound it up in bandages torn from his shirt. The loss of blood had made Peck light-headed.
"Keep them off!" he murmured. "Keep them off! They want to bore a hole in my side. Keep them off!"
"Be quiet, Peck, you are safe," answered the young captain soothingly. "You've been wounded, that's the trouble," but the private continued to rave for some time, when he relaxed into a stupor.
With strained ears Captain Moore waited for the appearance of friends or enemies, but nobody came up the brook. Once he heard two shots far to the northward, but whether fired by the soldiers or the Indians he could not tell.
"I'm afraid it's been a regular slaughter," he mused sadly. "And our getting away was a miracle," and this surmise proved correct, for, as was afterward proven, all the others of the party were slain within an hour after the surprise occurred.
CHAPTER XXV.
A LUCKY MEETING.
"Captain, where am I?"