"I would like to go back and kill that Shawnee," said Dancing Owl.
"It would be foolish," Running Fox told him. "I believe his friends are close by. Perhaps they would catch you. We have done what we came to do. Now we must try to get back to our people before something bad happens to us."
"Yes, my brothers, we must keep going," declared Crooked Foot. "I believe the Shawnees will try hard to turn us back."
The reckless scramble down the rough hillside was a severe ordeal for Spotted Deer. The slope was strewn with bowlders and tree trunks, and a dense tangle of brush and vines concealed the pitfalls. Spotted Deer stumbled painfully over the obstructions, striving heroically to conceal his agony. Running Fox, however, was keenly aware of his suffering.
"You are very brave," he said. "Can you keep going?"
"Yes," Spotted Deer replied, grimly.
They had finished the descent and were fighting their way through a heavy thicket of laurel when they suddenly heard the cry of Nianque, the lynx. It sounded behind them, and seemed to come from the top of the ridge.
"The Shawnees have found Big Dog," said Turning Eagle.
"Perhaps they are telling their friends about us," Yellow Wolf suggested, suspiciously.
"Yes, I believe there is some one down here," declared Running Fox. "We must watch sharp."