"Very well, Phil Farringford. You are the leader of this expedition, and I will obey your orders."
"I hope you won't, sir; at least, I don't mean to give you any orders," I replied, abashed at the humility of one whom I regarded as the greatest and best man in the world.
We walked in silence for another hour, for my companion always did more thinking than talking. I led the way, and kept both of my eyes and both of my ears wide open, expecting every moment to come upon the camp of the savages. While we were thus cautiously tramping through the forest, I heard the neighing of a horse behind us.
"Hark!" I whispered to Mr. Mellowtone. "We have passed them."
"How can that be?"
"They struck off from the river, and went into the woods to sleep. That was old Firefly's voice, I know. I shouldn't wonder if he heard us."
"If he did, perhaps the Indians heard us also."
"If they have that jug of whiskey with them, they are too drunk to hear anything by this time."
"We must look for the place where they left the path."
"It is rather dark to look for anything tonight," I replied, as I led the way back.