Had Fred given away to the excitement of the occasion, and lost that coolness that had stood him so well more than once on that dreadful afternoon and evening, he hardly would have escaped recapture before he went a hundred yards; for the Iroquois were so accustomed to the ways of the woods, they would have seized such advantage and come upon him while he was in the immediate neighborhood.
They believed he would continue running and stumbling in the darkness, and thus betray his whereabouts.
And that is precisely what Fred Godfrey did not do.
He ran with all speed through the woods, tripping and picking himself up, and struggling forward, until he was far beyond the reach of the light of the camp-fire, when all at once he caught the signal whoops of the Indians, and he knew they were after him.
Then, instead of keeping on in his flight, he straightened up and stepped along with extreme caution, literally feeling every foot of the way.
Thus it was he avoided betraying his situation to the cunning warriors, who, in their apparently aimless pursuit, used their ears, and indeed every sense at their command.
It was because Fred himself did the same that he eluded those on his track. Listening, he heard the approach of one of the Iroquois. Instead of hurrying away he stopped, and backing against a tree, stood as motionless as the trunk itself.
The dense summer vegetation overhead prevented a single beam of moonlight reaching him, so that he was secure from observation, so long as he retained his self-possession and made no blunder.
His nerves were under a fearful strain within the next three minutes, for, as if guided by fate, not one but two of the Senecas dashed through the wood, and instead of going by, halted not more than six feet from where he stood.
Why they should have stopped thus was more than he could conjecture, unless they really knew where he was and were sure they could place their hands on him when they wished.