“I don’t know. We can’t do nothin’ to-night; it’s too near morning. If we could git her, we couldn’t get a good ’nough start to give us a chance. We’ve got to wait till to-morrow night. There’s a lot of ’em on the watch too. We’ve got to lay low till daylight, and foller ’long behind ’em.”
The two made their way off in a side direction, so as not to be likely to attract notice in the morning, should any of the savages take the back trail. Here they remained until daylight.
They heard the Indians, as soon as it was fully light, preparing their morning meal; and, as they deemed they could see them without incurring great peril, they determined to obtain a glimpse of them, in order to assure themselves whether Ina was among them or not. Each had suspicion the company had separated, and that their trail had been overlooked in the darkness.
Accordingly, the two crept noiselessly to the top. There was a heavy, peculiar sort of brier growing on the summit of the embankment, which was fortunately so impenetrable as to effectually conceal their bodies. Seth pressed against this and peered over. His head just came above the undergrowth, and he could plainly see all that was transpiring. Graham, with an unfortunate want of discretion, placed his arm on Seth’s shoulder, and gazed over him! Yet singularly enough, neither was seen. Graham was just in the act of lowering his head, when the briers, which were so matted together as to hold the pressure against them like a woven band, gave way, and Seth rolled like a log down the embankment, directly among the savages!
CHAPTER VI.
A RUN FOR LIFE.
When the sad event just chronicled took place, and Seth made a rather unceremonious entrance into view of the savages, Graham felt that he too was in peril, and his life depended upon his own exertions. To have offered resistance would have been madness, as there were full thirty Indians at hand. Flight was the only resource left, and without waiting to see the fate of Seth, our hero made a bound down the embankment, alighting at the bottom, and struck directly across the plain, toward the timber that lined the river. He had gained several hundred yards, when several prolonged yells told him that he was discovered, and was a flying fugitive. Casting his eye behind him, he saw five or six Indians already down the embankment and in full chase.
And now commenced a race of life and death. Graham was as fleet of foot as a deer, and was well-trained and disciplined, but his pursuers numbered five of the swiftest runners of the Mohawk nation, and he feared he had at last found his match. Yet he was as skillful and cunning as he was sinewy and fleet of foot. The plain over which he was speeding was perfectly bare and naked for six or eight miles before him, while it stretched twice that distance on either hand, before the slightest refuge was offered. Thus, it will be seen, he took the only course which offered hope—a dead run for it, where the pursuer and pursued possessed equal advantages.
He was pretty certain that his pursuers possessed greater endurance than himself, and that in a long run he stood small chance of escape, while in a short race he believed he could distance any living Indian. So he determined to try the speed of his enemies.