The conclusion of the boy was a sensible one, and he resolutely faced the situation as it presented itself to him. It was most serious, and it may be said that every passing hour rendered it more so, for he was moving away from home, and thereby increasing the difficulties of returning thither, should it become his good fortune to gain the opportunity to do so.
The warriors who were walking in front, followed the usual custom of their people—that is, they proceeded in Indian file, so that the boy was given a fair view only of the one immediately before him—the glimpses of the others being fragmentary. Glancing behind, he observed the same fact, so that the entire party made but the single trail, for Jack himself was wise enough to fall in with their custom.
"It may be," he muttered, after traveling several miles in silence, "that they live hundreds of miles off and that I won't have a chance to leave them for weeks or months or—years," he added in a hushed voice, and with an additional heart-throb, "but I shall never be reconciled to live in the wigwams of the red men."
It seemed curious to the young captive that a party of friends, like the Indians, should tramp mile after mile as they did without speaking a single word. Now and then, some one would utter an exclamation which sounded more like the grunt of a porker than anything else, but frequently they advanced steadily for an hour or more in perfect silence.
Sometimes the forest was open and free from undergrowth, then it was cluttered up with running vines which would have annoyed any one unaccustomed to them, but which proved no obstacle to the Indians. In fact, they walked without showing the least regard to them. Where Jack, if leading, would have lifted his feet, they shoved ahead and without effort snapped and turned them aside as though they were so many cobwebs.
"It all comes from training," concluded our friend, as he attempted to catch a switch which swung back and struck him across the face; "if I was alone, it would take me twice as long as it takes them, and then I would fare worse than they do."
All at once, they came upon a creek. It was barely twenty feet in width, but muddy, swift and deep. There was something impressive in the speed with which the volume of water rushed through the woods, as if fleeing in a panic from some peril at its heels.
The entire party came to a halt, ranging themselves along the bank and surveying the turbid torrents, as though they wished to talk with each other upon the best method of placing themselves on the other side.
"I hope they won't swim it," Jack said to himself, "for their people make no allowance for those that are not as skillful as they, and I will get into trouble."