Ned had fixed the route so clearly in his own mind that he found no difficulty in retracing the steps taken when he was following the leadership of Worrell. He was apprehensive that he would meet him on his return, probably with a number of Indians. He therefore picked his way with all the care and stealth of which he was master. He imitated the actions of Lena-Wingo under similar circumstances. Frequently pausing and listening for sounds of his enemies, he used his eyes as keenly as he could for the detection of the first sign of approaching danger. This kind of progress was not of the most rapid order, but it was the wisest that could have been adopted, and he continued it for half an hour. At the end of that time, he reached the base of the tree from the branches of which he fired the shot that brought Worrell from behind the rock.
"Here is where we met him," he said to himself, "and I have a feeling that he isn't very far away now. What a wise girl Rosa is!" he added, with a blush, as if fearful she had heard the complimentary words. "She mistrusted that villain from the first, and gave us the alarm just in time to save ourselves."
Having reached the spot for which he set out, the question with the youth was whether he should stay where he was or go further. He had seen nothing of Lena-Wingo and Worrell—a disappointment in both cases, though of a different nature.
"I can't see why the Indian stays away so long, unless something unusual has happened. He must know how much we are alarmed over his absence, and he would be back if it were possible."
Waiting a short time, he concluded to advance a little farther, so as to meet either of the two men if they were approaching, while at a greater distance from the cavern, though he was not unmindful that he was liable to miss them altogether. However, he had gone less than a hundred yards when he detected the signs of some one coming immediately in front. It was his ear which heard a crackling of a twig, so close that he had barely time to leap aside and conceal himself from view when the figure of Worrell, closely followed by Captain Bagley, came up a sort of path toward the open space from which Ned had fled in such haste. The youth barely caught sight of them when the forms of six Iroquois appeared, one by one, immediately in the rear of the two white men.
When Ned saw the latter, he was much concerned, fearing that they would detect the slight trail he must have left in his hurry for cover. But it was too late to make any further flight, as he would be discovered from the noise, if not by the sight.
From his concealment he watched the party, their manner of marching being peculiar, as the eight walked in Indian file. Worrell, being the guide, took the lead. Bagley kept so close that they could hold a conversation in low tones, while the Iroquois stalked along like so many phantoms of the wood.
If Ned was alarmed at sight of the redmen, knowing their skill in detecting and following a trail of an enemy, he was thrown into a cold perspiration of dread when the whole party halted in the open space from which he had bounded when he heard the crackling twig. The clear space covered something like an eighth of an acre, and Clinton was too disturbed to notice that the particular spot where the group was gathered was so far removed from his footprints that there was really little danger of their being noticed. But when they had stood awhile, and the two white men began a conversation, he noticed the gratifying fact and became composed enough to listen to the words that passed between Captain Bagley and Worrell.
"You may say what you please," said the former, "but there is more risk in this business than I want to assume. You are so anxious to get the reward promised by Colonel Butler that you can't see the difficulties in the way."
"If there were any difficulties I would see them, but they ain't there. Where's the difficulty in eight armed men taking possession of two who are asleep, and a woman who is also unconscious?"