“Yes,” said he. “That’s what it will end with if help doesn’t come, I’m afraid.”
“With a fresh horse and a clear way through the Shawnees, I could make Captain Boone’s garrison by noon to-morrow,” said Oliver. “So why wait on the chance that help will come?”
“Noll!” cried Sandy; “you don’t mean to say that you’ll——”
“In a case like this,” said Oliver, firmly, “waiting is a mistake. Ill luck is as likely to befall as good. If they’ll let me, I’m going to venture it.”
In a moment he had left them and was eagerly engaged with Mr. Curley, the Baldwins and the McAfees. The man in buckskins also entered into the talk. Earnestly Oliver laid his thought before them; soberly they considered it; gravely they discussed its merits.
“My horse Hawk is like a cat at night,” said Oliver. “He is absolutely sure-footed and seems able to see in the dark. If I can win through the Shawnees he’ll carry me to Boone’s camp like the wind.”
The white-bearded Mr. Curley laid his hand kindly upon his shoulder.
“You are a brave lad,” said he; “and it’s with spirits like yours that success lies. So if you are eager to undertake this thing, I will not be one to lift my voice against it; for indeed its carrying out may mean the lives of us all.”
There was a murmur at this; all seemed to be of the same idea.
Without delay, Oliver went into the building where the horses were tied. Hawk lifted his head and rubbed his nose upon his young master’s shoulder. The young horse had gained in power since the day of his race with the wicked mount of Long Panther; and his increased years had lost him his coltish tricks. As he stood now he was a swift, intelligent horse of the sort which can be depended upon.