Of a verity Paul Sampson ought to have been the leader, and I his humble follower.
So abased was I by his thoughtfulness and my own stupidity, that I would have suggested he reconnoiter the camp, but an instant later, realizing that such dangerous work should be performed by me if for no other reason than that I might atone for my past folly, I whispered:
"Stay here, while I go forward."
"Why should I not follow? If it so be Kenton is not there, we may continue on, and thus save the time you would spend in returning to find me."
Again he was right, and again was I stupid.
Well, we did as he suggested, and no lad on the frontier could have done better work than this same Paul, who was so lately come from the east.
Skirting around the sleeping scoundrels so silently that the quick-eared watchers failed to take alarm, we got such view of the brutes as could be had in the darkness, and when half an hour or more was spent in the work, I could say of a truth that Simon Kenton had not been made prisoner by this band.
It was a great relief of mind, and yet only served to increase my shame, for now did I begin to believe that the scout had taken away the canoe, going up the river, or down, as might seem to him best, regardless of us two who had committed such a fault as was ours.
The gray light was filtering through the foliage when we were clear of the foe and could with some degree of safety continue the journey.
I pushed on at a swift pace that we might put the greatest possible distance between them and us before the day should have fully come; and the sun was rising when we halted for a breathing spell.