"White man got legs of deer—run fast," said one.
"Yeh!—git away from four Shummumdewumrum—run much fast," added another.
"Go back to camp—stay dere—won't come among Shawnee ag'in—don't like him, t'ink."
"He run much fast—mebbe fast as black man."
At this point the whole four laughed immoderately, as if in remembrance of the ludicrous figure of Zeb. Their mirth continued for several moments, when they sobered down and renewed their conversation.
"Wait till daylight—den foller trail t'rough woods—Shummumdewumrum git eye on it—soon cotch him."
This Leland felt was now his great danger. Should his pursuers return to their camp, he hoped the distance that he thus gained upon them would be sufficient to carry him entirely beyond their reach; but if they decided to remain where they were, his only chance was to steal away before the morning came. Judging such to be their intention, he determined to make the attempt at once.
On his hands and knees he commenced crawling forward, listening to every word that was uttered.
"White man try hard to git away—don't like Shawnee great much."
"He run much fast, den fall down in woods!"