"A redskin! He will scalp us!" he cried, and was on the point of pulling the trigger when Dave stopped him.
"No! no! It's only a wolf!" cried the youth. "Don't waste your powder and ball. Besides, a shot will arouse every Indian for quarter of a mile around."
"A wolf? So it must have been." Uriah Risley drew a long breath and lowered his musket. "He gave me a good scare, I must vow."
"Hush! It won't do to talk so loud," went on the boy. "For all we know the Indians may be trailing us and be ready to pounce on us at any moment."
These words caused the Englishman to glance back apprehensively, and hurry on faster than ever. "It's a beastly woods," he said. "I wish we were out of it."
"We are safer here than in a clearing," was the answer. "Come close behind me and keep quiet, and I think we'll be safe."
On and on they went. Dave's lower limbs ached and trembled under him, for he was now almost fagged out and it was only will-power that kept him up. Slowly they climbed the last rise of ground. At a distance glowed the dying embers of a camp-fire.
"There's a redskins' nest," said the youth, as he paused for a moment. "But it looks as if they had deserted the place."
"Then we'll have to be doubly cautious, lad. They may be scattered in this vicinity."
"You are right. But I hope not, for we are now close to where I left your wife and Henry."