It is a fact, to which all hunters will testify, that, in the exciting pursuit of their game, they can travel mile after mile, with hardly any sensible fatigue. It is not until they come to retrace their steps, that they realize how great a distance they have passed over. The attendant, perhaps, whose mind does not participate in the same excitement, is exhausted even in following the hunter.
Thus it happened that Hezekiah Smith, who would not have believed he had gone more than half a mile, chased the gobbler for fully ten times that distance, at the end of which it did not seem fatigued in the least, the wild turkey, as our readers are aware, being a noted runner. With no thought of giving it up, Hezekiah still pursued it at the top of his speed, occasionally making a leap forward at it, and the bird as often eluding him, as cleverly as ever.
Suddenly he caught the glimmer of something through the trees, and to his joy, saw that they were approaching the banks of a river. He was now sure of the bird; he had fairly earned it; and his tormenting hunger was about to be satisfied.
Gracefully, and majestically, as the bird reached the edge of the river, it spread out its wings, and, sailing through the air, landed upon the Ohio side, and disappeared in the woods.
"That is unpleasant. If my rifle had only been loaded, I would have finished him."
In chasing the gobbler, with all his turnings and doublings, Hezekiah had become "turned around," himself, so that it seemed to him the Ohio River was running in the wrong direction, and that he was on the other side of it. Concluding however, that such a phenomena would be a miracle, he kept on down the river, having decided that it would be useless to retrace his steps, in the hope of finding Waring.
He was walking slowly forward, panting and fatigued, when it struck him that there was a peculiar smell in the air. It seemed as though something were burning, and, knowing that he was in the midst of an Indian country, he guarded his steps, and kept a more watchful eye upon his surroundings.
It turned out as he had expected. He was close upon an Indian encampment. He caught a glimpse of the gaudy, fantastic costumes of the savages through the trees, and approaching as nigh as he could, he concealed himself, as well as his position would admit.
It was with singular emotions, that Hezekiah recognized this party as the identical Shawanoes who had attacked his party, and who held Pat Mulroony and Virginia Lander as captives. The fact that they must have been here some time, proved that they had broken their last night's encampment at an early hour, and departed even before he himself had awakened.