"Then why stay here, losing precious time that—"
"As I told you, to git ready for another hard tramp. It's full half a mile to the nearest end or crossin'-place, an' the ground is mighty rough. But we'll go now."
As he spoke, Boone raised his rifle and fired at one of the bowlders beyond, though none of the savages were visible. Taunting yells greeted this shot, but he knew that his object was gained. The Osages would believe that the scouts had resolved to defend the pass, and so would make no attempt at crossing until their friends completed the surround. And this, Boone felt, would give them ample time to reach safety.
Loading his rifle, as he proceeded, Boone led the way over the rocks, after crawling stealthily until beyond view of the ravine. Abel, comparatively inexperienced in such matters chafed restlessly at the deliberate motions of the old hunter but knew the uselessness of remonstrating. Thus they proceeded for fully half an hour, when from the direction of the ravine, there came, borne upon the brisk breeze, angry yells of rage and disappointment. The Osages had discovered the flight of their enemies.
"Now, lad, sence we've got our new wind, mebbe it'd be as well to do a little more tall travelin', for we've a long trail afore us to the place I told the chief we'd meet him at," said Boone, breaking into a trot.
For half a mile more Abel kept close at the veteran's heels, but then his foot slipped, and in recovering his balance, the knife dropped from his belt. A little incident, but one that was fated to produce important changes in the lives of both the scouts.
Picking up the weapon, Abel thrust it securely into his belt, then resumed his course. Boone had not heard the slip, and now Abel just caught a glimpse of his form as he passed around a huge bowlder. When Abel gained this point, Boone had disappeared around another. Expecting with every moment to overtake the hunter, Dare pressed on through the broken country. The trail was winding and intricate, one among a hundred others, though this fact the young settler was hardly aware of, since the moon was already paling before the approach of day, and a dim, uncertain light shrouded the earth, revealing outlines vague and indistinct.
For several minutes Abel Dare pressed on with as great speed as was practicable under the circumstances; still nothing was to be seen or heard of Boone. Then pausing, he called aloud, gently at first, then louder; but only the mocking echoes answered back. Where could the hunter be?
For a few minutes Dare deliberated whether or no he should retrace his steps and try to rejoin his friend; but he felt by no means sure that he could do this, so many passages and trails seemed winding through this rocky tract. And then, too, he knew that the Osages would be searching for the fugitives. To return would be to rush into their arms.
"No, I'll go on," he at length muttered, decisively. "This tract can not extend much further, and once in the open ground, I can easily manage to rejoin Boone. If not, then I'll strike for the settlements and try to raise enough men to set poor, darling Edith free, whether or no!"