"An' thar's the other answerin' from the other side," said Shif'less Sol, "an' it, too, is much nearer."
"'Pears ez ef they knowed more about us than we thought they did, an' are tryin' to surround us," said Long Jim.
"An' we jest won't be surrounded," said Shif'less Sol. "We ain't trained to that sort o' thing an' it ain't a habit that we'd like."
"Come on," said Henry, and, rifle on shoulder, he flitted through the thickets. The others followed him in single file, and they advanced toward a point mid-way between the opposing bands. Their line formed according to its invariable custom, Henry leading, the shiftless one next, followed by Paul, with Long Jim following, and Silent Tom covering the rear.
They traveled now at high speed, and Henry felt that the need was great. He was sure that the bands, besides signaling to each other, were also calling up wandering hunters. The circle about them might be more nearly complete than they had thought. They kept to the darkest of the forest and fled on like a file of phantoms. A rifle suddenly cracked in the thicket and a bullet whistled by. Henry's rifle flashed in reply and no further sound came from the bushes. Then the phantoms sped on faster than ever.
Henry reloaded his rifle, and all of them listened to the chorus of the owls, as they cried to one another in a circle the diameter of which might have been a third of a mile. The heart of every one beat faster, not alone because they were running, but because of that demon chorus. All the warriors had heard the rifle shots and they knew now just about where the fugitives were. The cry of an owl has a singularly weird and haunting quality, and when so many of them came together, coming as the five knew, from the throats of those who meant them death, its effect was appalling even upon such hardy souls as theirs.
"I wish they'd stop them cries," growled Long Jim. "They git into my bones, an' give me a sort uv creepy weakness 'bout the knees."
"Don't let your knees buckle," said Shif'less Sol. "Good knees are mighty important, jest now, 'cause you know, Jim, we'll hev to make a pow'ful good run fur it, an' ef your legs give out I'll hev to stay back with you."
"I know you would, Sol, but that creepy feelin' 'bout my knees don't weaken the muscles an' j'ints. Runnin' is my strongest p'int."
"I know it. I don't furgit the time your runnin' saved us all when the emigrant train wuz surrounded by the tribes."