Soon after this second start, Silverspur, happening to look around, discovered a large body of Indians, less than a quarter of a mile in their rear.
“What shall we do now?” he asked, as he pointed them out to his companion.
“What you kin do is plain enough,” replied Blaze. “Yer legs are good, and you kin git away. As fur me, I can’t run, and will hev to take my chances.”
“Do you think I would leave you? You know me better than that, old man. I think we can both save ourselves. The Indians have seen us, no doubt, but have not found us out. They probably mistake us for some of their own people, as they are in no hurry to get to us. If you will pull up a little, until we get to the creek yonder, you can hide under the bank. The Indians will follow me, and you can get clear when they have gone by.”
“Are you right sure, boy, that your legs are good?” asked the hunter, looking hard at his companion.
“I can trust them, and you need have no fear for me. The Indians are afoot, as you see, and I am sure that no runner among them can catch me before I reach the Devil’s Gap.”
“All right, then. Yer legs will hev to save yer own skelp and mine.”
“Come on. I belive they are getting suspicions of us.”
Old Blaze quickened his pace, and they soon reached the creek, where he concealed himself in the dense foliage under the bank.
Silverspur crossed the creek, and gained an elevation beyond it, from which he looked back at the Indians. They had become suspicious of the strangers, and runners from the main body were hastening toward the creek. As he started to run, the advanced Indians gave a yell, and pushed forward in pursuit.