“Here at my side,” Douglas answered.
“I guess I’m the only critter that got a scratch,” Joe grumbled. “I alluz was an unlucky mortal. One o’ them red devils has raised a strawberry on my cheek, as big’s a walnut. He must ’ave struck me with the butt of his hatchet. I’m much obleeged to him that he didn’t use the blade. I’d ’ave needed a surgeon, I would, by Polly Ann! Seemin’ly the cusses didn’t want to kill us; they didn’t fire a gun. Wanted to take us alive, I reckon. But our charge was too much fer ’em. But we want to reload our rifles, an’ git out o’ here. They’ll git torches an’ be hot on our trail ’fore a half hour, ’r I miss my guess. Gol-fer-socks! But I’m hungry. I could eat hoss-meat now an’ relish it. Say, fellers, which way do we want to steer?”
“It makes little difference,” Ross answered impatiently. “Any direction that will carry us from this vicinity is good enough for me.”
“That won’t do,” Joe said firmly. “We’ve got to do one o’ two ’r three things: steer fer Fort Harrison on the Wabash, Fort Defiance on the Maumee, ’r make a break ’cross the country fer Franklinton on the Scioto. The question is which way ’ll we go. What do you say, Injin?”
“Me say go toward rising sun; go toward home,” Bright Wing answered promptly.
“What do you say, Ross?”
“I’m willing to abide by Bright Wing’s decision. But let’s be off.”
“All right,” returned Joe. “We’ve got to ford the creek then, an’ keep bearin’ east. We want to strike through by Greenville an’ Fort Recovery. Come on. Le’s git out o’ here, an’ find a place where we can cook some meat. The Injin’s got some in his pouch. I’m jest ’bout starved, I am, by cracky! Injin, take the lead.”
All night they pressed forward, bearing toward the northeast. At daylight they went into camp upon a rocky elevation, and, after kindling a fire and cooking and eating a quantity of venison, stretched themselves upon the damp ground and fell asleep.