When we made this second halt I believed we were no less than two miles from where the canoe lay, and it was positive the enemy had not been so far away when the weapons were discharged.
Paul pressed my arm in token that he wanted to say something; but I clapped my hand over his mouth. The fact that I had made a most grievous mistake was beginning to find lodgment in my dull brain, and a nervous fear was creeping over me.
The thought that he, a lad from the east who knew nothing of woodcraft, had good reason to distrust my ability, angered me, and like a fool I advanced once more, this time at right angles with the course we had been pursuing, even though I should have known that such traveling at random was not calculated to produce the desired results.
When we had forced our way through the underbrush for a distance of perhaps another mile, we were halted by a swamp.
It was not possible that either the Indians or Simon Kenton had attempted to cross such a place where one must flounder around with noise enough to proclaim his every movement, and I leaned against the trunk of a tree fully realizing all the mischief I had wrought.
Again Paul gave token of wishing to speak, and I no longer attempted to check him.
"If we are to hunt for Kenton, or count on learning what has become of him, would it not be better that we went back to the canoe, and waited for the coming of day?"
"Then it is our duty to push up stream to warn the volunteers," I replied moodily.
"We cannot hope to find him while it is dark, and it may be that we shall lose our way," he suggested mildly, whereupon, and without reason, I turned upon him angrily.
"We have lost it already!"