In this way the afternoon wore rapidly away, the dinner was lengthened, and by the time that the party rose from the table, the latter part of the day was half gone.
As the "frow" of Bungslager had gone to the village of Brownston in the canoe, there was no means of making the journey by water, so it was arranged that the dozen intervening miles should be made overland. Hans owned a sturdy horse, not very fleet, but tough and enduring, upon which he proposed to load every thing necessary, while he and Katrina walked.
Sebastian had come on foot, not pausing to procure a horse, and Crockett offered to yield his mustang to her, as the animal was at no great distance, and he intended to procure him before setting out for the village.
But she declined. None of the party were more able to walk than she, and in the labyrinths of the woods, she had more confidence in her own limbs than in those of any quadruped or biped.
It was agreed that Crockett should go after his mustang and then follow a bridle-path that he could easily find, which struck the creek about a mile below the cabin of Bungslager, and there await the coming of his friends. At the same time Sebastian was to descend the river some distance below, to see whether any thing more could be discovered regarding the Comanches, and then was to return to the point mentioned, where it was believed that all would rendezvous at the end of a couple of hours.
With this understanding the parties separated—Crockett taking the trail made by the bear, while he was pursuing it, as the speediest way of reaching the point where he had left his mustang tied. Sebastian located the bridle-path with such exactness that he was certain of finding it without any delay.
The Texan, with his heavy rifle slung over his shoulder, strode off in an eastern direction, following the course of the creek. As he looked up to the sky, and saw how near the sun was setting, a shade of anxiety crossed his face. He felt that they had lingered too long in the cabin, after the danger became known. It was now impossible to get fairly started for Brownston, before night was closing in, and the probabilities were that the place would not be reached before daylight.
These hours of darkness would be hours of the greatest peril to his friends. He had no doubt that the vigilant, ferocious Comanches would be between them and the village before the night was half gone. Such a large party could hardly hope to make their way through the lines without discovery—especially with the blundering Hans Bungslager, who seemed incapable of comprehending the grave character of the danger that menaced them.
"I am afraid we shall see the worst kind of trouble, before many hours come and go!" muttered the Texan, as he strode thoughtfully through the forest.