“Yes,” answered Sibou gravely. “We must follow. But I shall go first, whilst you remain here. If I find nothing, then I shall be back in one hour or two. It is in my mind that there is an encampment not far away, and it is better that we do not take the dogs till we know. If they are bad Indians——”
“In God’s name, hurry!” cried Roger Bracknell, his courage shaken by the thought of the new danger into which Joy Gargrave appeared to have fallen.
CHAPTER XXIII
PRISONERS
WHEN Dick Bracknell had led the way from the cabin he knew that he was leading a forlorn hope. It was possible that many hours would pass before the men in the camp discovered their flight; whilst on the other hand the discovery might be made immediately and, in that case, as the ruthlessness of the attackers had shown, there was little hope of escape. But there were dangers before as well as behind, and the wilderness of the North was itself the greatest danger. They had little food, he himself was a very sick man, ill-fitted for the strenuous toil which the situation called for, and in the woods wild beasts and wild men might lurk, against whom, armed merely with pistols and hunting knives, they would be almost helpless. All this he knew, but braced himself for the task before him, determined at all costs to save the two girls and to win Joy’s respect if that was at all possible.
When they won to the darkness of the forest without discovery, he breathed more freely, and pushed on along an ill-defined track, which he seemed to know well. As the night wore on, he grew unutterably tired, and once when he was overtaken by a fit of coughing, which left him terribly exhausted, Joy suggested that they should rest for a little while.
“Are you too tired to continue?” he asked.
“Oh no,” she answered quickly.