Stevens shuddered, but did not reply. He knew that Bob-tailed Horse would scarcely admit his red brethren, but then there was other danger. He knew that Fred would try and persuade the family to hasten over to his house, and he—John—had evidence that the trail was thickly beset by dangers.
Besides the band that held him a captive, Stevens had heard enough to know that Sloan Young was also lying near at hand, only awaiting the proper time to spring his trap upon the "people of the great rock." Might not Fred also stumble upon one of these parties?
Dusky Dick was not a little provoked at the ill-success of his taunting boasts, but soon desisted, and once more made his way to the front, as the party were now rapidly nearing the cabin of Edward Wilson. Their caution increased, and the party glided along the shadowy path, like some grim forest hunter.
John was not idle, however. He resolved to escape, if it lay in human power, as he felt that to remain captive was equivalent to death, more or less speedy; and he might yet be able to accomplish something. If too late to save the Wilson family, he might be of use to his own people.
He worked assiduously upon the bonds that confined his hands. They were of tanned buckskin, and defied his utmost efforts to break them. The endeavor only resulted in abrading the skin of his wrists.
The knots appeared to be tied securely, and would neither slip nor come untied. It seemed as though his hopes were doomed to be frustrated by this one fact. And yet he did not give way to despair or cease his efforts, only keeping them concealed—as he was enabled to do by the darkness beneath the trees—from the red-skins before and behind him.
Now the little party stood upon the verge of the clearing surrounding the cabin of Edward Wilson, and peered curiously out upon it. An Indian grasped John firmly by the neck, and rested one hand upon his lips, evidently resolved that he should give no alarm.
All was quiet around the dwelling. There was no light within the building, and it seemed as though the inmates had retired to rest, with their usual feeling of security. Dusky Dick uttered a fiendish laugh.
"You see," he muttered in John's ear, "your friends don't expect visitors to-night. They will be agreeably surprised—I guess not—when we wake them up. But, still, it may be a trap, and you must guard us from it. Now I am goin' to make you walk jest afore me, and, mind you, I have a long knife—long enough, anyhow, to reach your heart—ready for use at the slightest sound from your lips. And I will use it, too, if you give a single word or sign to alarm them."
In a few words Dusky Dick made known his plans to his followers, and they expressed approval of it. John was brought to the front and Dusky Dick crouched behind him. Then the others strung out in a row, so that any shot from the house would miss them all, unless first striking the young settler.