THE PURSUIT.
It was not the first time that Tim O'Rooney made a mistake. The Indians were excited over something, but as yet they held no suspicion that three white persons stood behind them and could be so easily reached. They were talking in a wild manner, and ran several rods from the beach, when they suddenly paused and picked up an object over which they quarreled and were almost ready to proceed to violence. From where our friends stood it looked as if it were nothing more than a coat or some cast-off garment that had been thrown aside by so me of the survivors when they were taken away by the Relief.
"No, they have not seen us yet," said Howard, who was watching them intently, while his two companions where looking upon the readiest means of escape.
"Then why did they start after us, be the same token?" demanded Tim, with a great sigh of relief.
"They are quarreling over something that lies upon the beach."
"If they'd only have the onspakable kindness to go to fighting each other like a lot of Kilkenny cats, and not sthop till there's not one of 'em left—I say if they'd have the kindness to do that, it would be fortinit for us."
"Hardly probable, Tim; the fact, is they appear to have settled the matter already, and have gone down to the edge of the sea again."
"I don't see the use of our remaining here," said Howard. "We daren't go any nearer them than we now are, while if we put back into the country we stand a chance of getting something to eat. As near as I can calculate, the Salinas River isn't very far away, and California is said to be very fertile along its streams, if it is barren in such places as this."
"And we may come upon a party of miners further inland."
"I don't know about that," rejoined Howard. "The diggings are on the other side of the Coast Range, between that and the Sierra Nevada, in the Sacramento Valley, and I think they are further north, too."