In the first place, he did not want to waste an instant of time, and another thing, he was afraid mother might ask him if Jim had brought any news concerning me; and as he did not care to alarm her by revealing the real facts of the case, he thought it best to keep out of her sight.
He crept carefully to the porch, unhitched his horse, and succeeded in leading the animal out of the yard without attracting the attention of any one in the house.
The young Indian was already in the saddle, and as soon as Mark came out, he led the way at a rapid gallop toward the swamp.
They passed the camp which had been the scene of the conflict, crossed the bayou at the ford about a mile above Dead Man’s Elbow, and at three o’clock in the afternoon drew rein within sight of the cane-brake in which Luke Redman’s hiding-place was situated, without having once been out of the saddle, or even stopping to rest.
During all this time Mark had kept a bright lookout for the settlers, but had not seen one of them.
“Now, white boy,” said the Indian, after carefully reconnoitering the ground before him, “no time for foolin’. Do just like me.”
Mark followed his guide’s instructions to the very letter. He dismounted when the Indian did, and after hitching his horse, followed close at his heels as he wormed his way through the cane, stepping exactly in his tracks, and imitating as nearly as possible his cautious, stealthy movements.
Presently they came to a halt on the bank of the bayou. The Indian looked up and down the stream several times, carefully scrutinizing every thicket within the range of his vision, to make sure that there was no one in sight, and then stepped into the water and struck out for the island, still closely followed by Mark, who held his gun and powder-flask above his head with one hand and swam with the other. When they reached the bank they plunged into the cane again, and in a few minutes more were crouching in a thicket of bushes at the foot of the bluff against which Luke Redman’s house was built.
“Now, white boy,” said Jim, “you stay here, and me go and look.”
The Indian glided out of sight as he spoke, and for the next half-hour Mark sat there in the bushes with his back against a tree and his double-barrel resting across his knees, awaiting his return.