“Don’t ’pear to find any, though I shouldn’t wonder if thar’s two, there ’bout. Like to know where Nero is.”
He stopped and called again his brute, but, of course, he came not.
“Beats the devil whar that dorg am!” he exclaimed, somewhat nettled. “I’ll have to wollop him when he comes home ag’in.”
It was now so dark that his form was quite indistinct to Kingman. The latter saw him stand a moment and then soliloquize:
“Now, s’pose there war some feller hid under them bushes, he’d have a fine chance to bring me down, wouldn’t he? Thunder! I didn’t think of that all the time I’ve been standin’ here.”
This sudden discovery appeared considerably to affect him, for he turned on his heel and disappeared in the darkness. Pete Johnson, the renegade, was perhaps as incarnate a monster as Simon Girty; but, added to his crimes, he had a failing which the other great renegade had not. He was cowardly and fearful of his personal safety in battle. Girty, no one will deny, was a brave and daring fighter, and was often perfectly reckless of danger, while Johnson invariably showed the white feather when in peril.
Darkness had now settled over the forest, and Kingman, having greatly recovered, stealthily emerged from his hiding-place.
“Yes,” he muttered, looking toward the spot where he had last seen his enemy; “yes, there was a fellow under a bush, and nothing in the world would have given him a greater pleasure than to have sent a bullet through that black heart of yours. Never mind; your reward will come some day.”
And he turned and plunged in the forest.
The spot where the battle recorded had taken place, was in Sciota Valley, but a short distance from the river of that name, and toward this Kingman bent his steps. He could hear the shouts of the savages, and see their lights flitting through the trees, as they moved about in the village. Some, he knew, were still absent in the forest, searching for prey, and he was yet by no means out of danger, as the river bank would probably be watched the whole night. His wound pained him now more than usual, and he was fearful of a fever renewing itself before morning.