“Yes. Good-by.”
“Good-by, and God bless and protect you, my boy,” uttered Calhoun, chokingly.
“Thar—git out! You’ve filled my eyes full o’ bugs or so’thin’, a’ready. Ef the reds come now, I couldn’t shoot a mite. Thar—now you’re gone,” and the old guide pressed the young man’s hand warmly, while he brushed one sleeve across his eyes, now dimmed by a suspicious moisture.
Cautiously Ayres glided along the barricade, and slipping down the bank—here several yards high—entered the water. Then sinking low down, and keeping within the narrow belt of dark shadow, he slowly floated down-stream, fairly bound upon his truly perilous mission.
And with painfully-throbbing hearts the two men listened, dreading lest there should come to their ears with each passing moment, the exultant shout of their savage foes, announcing the discovery of the young man, thus foiling their last hope—a truly forlorn one!
CHAPTER V.
DELAWARE TOM.
Clara uttered a wild cry, and sunk back, with a shudder. She believed her pursuers had overtaken, and now held her captive; but in this she was mistaken.
“Do not be alarmed, lady,” uttered a low voice, close beside the maiden. “You are among friends here, who will protect you with their lives, if there be any need.”
“But he—he is an Indian!” half unconsciously murmured Clara.
“True, but he is far different from those who were chasing you. He is a true friend, and would fight in your defense quite as readily as I would.”