“Read it fur yourself,” replied Seth innocently.
“What, that?” repeated the savage, menacingly.
“A little flourishing I was executing, jist to pass away time.”
“Ugh!” grunted the Indian, and dipping his big foot in the brook, he irreverently swept it across the stone, completely wiping out Seth’s beautiful chirography.
“Much obliged,” said the latter, “saved me the trouble. I can write on it again when it gits dry.”
But no opportunity was given, as a moment after the scouts returned, and the line of march was taken up. But Seth well knew he had accomplished all that could be desired. He had taken particular pains that the pebble should be flinty enough to scratch into the soft stone every word that he wrote. Consequently, the party had not been gone a half-hour, when every letter came but as clear and distinct as before, despite the wet daub the indignant savage had given it.
Their progress for a time was quite rapid. Seth, somehow or other, was constantly pitching out of file, breaking down the twigs along the way, stumbling against the stones which were not in the way, and, in spite of the menaces and occasional blows of his captors, making the trail unnecessarily distinct and plain.
At noon, another halt was made, and all partook of some food. Ina was sick at heart, and ate but a mouthful. An apprehension of her dreadful position came over her, and her soul reeled as she began picturing what was yet to come. Seth quarreled with two of his captors, because, he affirmed, they took more than their share of the dinner; and, take it all in all, affairs were getting into as interesting a state as one could well conceive.
The meal finished, they again set forward. From the whispered consultation of the savages, as well as the words which reached Seth’s ears, and their utter disregard of Ina’s painful fatigue, he began to believe that the Indians suspected that their stratagem had not misled their pursuers, and were apprehensive of pursuit. Finally, Seth became satisfied that such was the case, and when they halted toward the middle of the afternoon, he again gave vent to his thoughts upon a friendly stone which offered itself, and this, again, received a fierce wipe from the foot of the same savage, and the words again came out to view, and accomplished all that their ardent author could have desired.
These acts of Seth, settled the suspicions of his captors into a certainty, and a closer surveillance was kept upon their refractory captive. No further opportunities were given him, and as he himself had expected this turn of matters, there was need for it upon his part. Although he had little reason to hope it, he did hope and believe that Haverland and Graham were upon the trail, and he felt that if the words intended for their eyes could only reach them, the fate of Ina and himself was determined.