Stealthily Peleg still crept forward. After each step he paused and looked keenly about him as he listened for sounds which might indicate renewed peril. He had seen nothing of Israel since his friend had left him.
Suddenly he was startled to hear what evidently were the sounds of a struggle between two men nearby. The laboured breathing and an occasional exclamation which he heard alike convinced him of this. With increasing anxiety Peleg crept forward.
He was not molested when he came to the end of the row, but before him he saw a contest which threatened to terminate speedily as well as fatally for Israel Boone.
The son of the great scout was in the hands of a white man, and was struggling desperately. His contestant, however, plainly was much the stronger. Peleg saw the face of the man distinctly, and he assured himself that never before had he looked upon so villainous a countenance. The man's face was distorted and discoloured by his efforts, and the perspiration streamed down his cheeks leaving furrows behind it. In spite of his excitement, Peleg asked himself if the man's face had ever been washed. The necessity for quick action, if his friend was to be rescued, caused Peleg instantly to raise his rifle to his shoulder and fire.
Israel's contestant dropped to the ground as Peleg had seen an ox collapse from the blow of an axe.
Instantly darting to the side of his friend, Peleg whispered, "Come!"
"That is Simon Girty!" gasped Israel, looking down into the face of the fallen man before him.
Startled as Peleg was by the words of his companion, he did not wait to verify them, but turned back at once into the cornfield. As soon as he had gone a short distance, bidding Israel follow him, he turned to his left, and, still running swiftly and silently, the boys advanced a hundred yards; they then turned abruptly to their right in the direction of the side of the field where they had first entered. Although mystified by the action of his companion, Israel did not protest as he followed Peleg in his flight.