Paul and I flung ourselves at full length on the ground, for in no other position did it seem possible to recover from the exhaustion which beset us; but Simon Kenton remained standing at a spot from where he could have a view of some portion of our surroundings when the sun had dispelled the gloom.
"I suppose there is good reason to believe the Indians will kill us before we can arrive at Corn Island?" Paul said in a tone of one asking a question, after he had recovered his breath sufficiently to speak, and Simon Kenton replied quietly.
"Two or three such races as we have had this night should give them good cause for discouragement."
"It is a question whether they or we are getting the worst of this business," I added, trying to speak calmly, as had my comrades; but making a bad job of it.
"Twenty-four hours is a long stretch," Paul said thoughtfully, "and it's all I can do to keep my eyes open."
"Go to sleep, lad," Kenton cried. "We must contrive to get some rest 'twixt now an' night, an' if you two take a nap at once I'll have a chance later."
It may seem strange that boys should be able to sleep under such circumstances as these, and yet the permission had no sooner been given by the scout than I was stretched out at full length, my eyes closing despite all efforts to keep them open.
The report of a rifle, discharged near at hand, awakened me, and I looked around to see the scout reloading his rifle.
"Did you wing your bird?" I asked sleepily.
"I hope never to use this 'ere piece again if I didn't. The sneak has been wrigglin' his way toward us for the last ten minutes, an' I only waited to let him believe he was keepin' his red carcass out of sight, although I marked it plainly from the instant he started."