“Where are they, Vic?” queried Marion, shading her eyes with her hand, and gazing earnestly away toward the point indicated. “I can see nothing.”
“Look here,” said Vic. “Ye see thet hill ’way yonder? Wal, jist tew the left of that ye can see—if yer eyes are sharp—a lot of leetle dark movin’ objects. Them’s ’em.”
“Oh, yes! But how far distant they are. Mere specks on the horizon,” said the fair girl, as she watched them.
“Humph! It won’t take ’em long to git nearer,” said Vic, “but as we’re purty clus to the fort I don’t feel very uneasy. They hain’t seen us; we are a small party, ye know. Move on!”
The march was resumed and they were soon out of sight of their dreaded enemy. Sunset found them about twelve miles from the fort, when they concluded to pass the night, as their animals gave evidence of considerable fatigue. They had not allowed them much time to feed or rest since morning, and a good camping-spot being found, they prepared for the night’s repose. The spot selected was in a small clump of timber, through which ran a clear, purling brook. A fire was kindled beside a fallen trunk, some meat for supper roasted, and then the little camp relapsed into slumber.
CHAPTER XI.
THE LAST OF EARTH.
It was near morning when Kent was awakened by a hand on his shoulder and a gentle shake.
Starting up, half asleep, he asked in a whisper:
“What is wanting?”
“Git up,” was the reply, in the well-known voice of Nathan Rogers. “Thar’s Injuns clus at hand, an’ we can only save ourselves by slidin’!”