Acting upon this resolve, Abel Dare turned his face toward the north, and pressed on at a rapid gait, all-unconscious of the danger that was rapidly nearing him—that, in fact, he was advancing to meet.
For an hour more he toiled on. The broken, rocky tract was left behind him. The ground was now almost like a rolling prairie, thinly wooded save in the deeper valleys where some small creek, sluggishly wound its way. The sun had risen, clear and bright. The wind had nearly died away. The day was lovely, inspiriting, and despite his weary limbs, his hunger, the young settler pursued his way with a free, springy step.
He had seen nothing of Boone, though he had searched keenly, had halloed, once even discharging his rifle, but all without the result wished for. Not daring to waste further time in the hope of finding him, Dare turned his face toward the quite distant settlement, eager to put into operation his plans for the rescue of Edith. For that she was still alive and a captive, he firmly believed, from the reasonings of the old hunter.
His mind was filled with such thoughts, when, upon the ridge of a considerable hill, Abel abruptly paused. Upon his left, fully half a mile distant, his keen glance detected a score human figures, crossing the hill in an opposite direction to that followed by himself. For this reason he had not discovered them before.
Quick as thought Abel flung himself flat upon the ground, but he was too late to avoid observation. He saw the human figures turn toward him, gesticulating violently. Even as he lay they could see him, for the grass was short and scanty.
Whatever doubts he might have entertained as to their identity, were quickly solved. The bright sun shone clearly upon them. Even at that distance he could distinguish the long flowing hair, the plumed beads, the bronze, naked forms; all telling of savages, and consequently enemies.
Feeling assured that naught save another horrible, heart-sickening flight could avail him here, Abel partially arose and cast a swift glance behind him. In that direction, if any, must he flee, for in his present jaded state he would need all the advantage he possessed.
Fully two miles away a considerable-sized hill arose from the level ground around. Though its crest was densely crowned with trees, the sides and base were bare of vegetation, an uneven, dirty grayish cast. Around its base lay scattered a number of bowlders that must be, to be so distinctly visible at that distance, of large size. The thought flashed upon Dare that if he could not find a secure covert there, at least he could gain a position from whence he could sell his life dearly.
He had time for no more than one glance and its accompanying thought. Though in silence, the Indians rapidly advanced along the ridge toward him. Leaping to his feet, Abel turned and darted away at full speed, casting a quick glance over his shoulder as he did so. That showed him the savages bounding forward in hot pursuit, while their yells came slowly to his ears.
With eyes fixed upon the goal, Dare ran, as he had never ran before, along the gradually-descending ridge. The turf was smooth, springy, free from all obstacles. A more favorable spot for a race could not have been picked out. And yet Abel knew that the savages were gaining upon him, though slowly. The difference in the occasional yells plainly told him that. Still, when one-half the distance had been traversed, he glanced back, and felt assured that, barring accident, he would not be overtaken before reaching the hill.