They kept their eyes and ears alert. Soon they heard the Indians coming back, on the trail, as if puzzled.
"Hide," Lewis whispered.
It was done at once, by a silent dart to the left and a squatting behind bushes. Again they held their breaths. Lewis's wound throbbed and stung, but he uttered not a murmur. The Indians passed; their keen eyes noted nothing suspicious; their sounds died away—
"All right, Jakie."
They set out once more, hastening on down the forest trail flecked by the moonlight; Lewis led, lugging the heavy gun, Jacob trotted close at his heels. Rabbits hopped and flattened, a fox or two glided, there was nothing dangerous, until—
"Listen!"
They two stopped short, and poised, heads turned. Lewis painfully stooped and put his ear to the ground.
"They're following us horseback. We'll have to hide again."
They came to a good spot, and hid. This time it was two Indians on horses, sure enough, moving rapidly to catch them. Morning was near. The forest paled with the first tinge of dawn. They straightened up cautiously.
"I think we'd better leave this trail, Jakie," Lewis said. "We'll strike right east, for the river. We can't get lost now."