CHAPTER XV
WHEN STOUT HEARTS WERE NECESSARY
“We have covered a good many miles since starting, Dick, and I hope they soon show signs of stopping for the night.”
The afternoon was getting well along when Roger made this remark to his cousin. His tone had a vein of complaint in it, for, although Roger could tramp through the woods all day and feel it but little, he did not like being forced to do the walking against his will.
Another thing that fretted the boy was the fact that every furlong passed over carried them further away from their friends of the expedition, the only whites, saving the French traders, within hundreds of miles.
Dick had begun to notice this growing feeling of irritation on the part of his comrade. He himself could look trouble in the face without flinching, and he now concluded it was time to cheer up Roger’s drooping spirits.
“No question but that they intend to pull up pretty soon, Roger,” he said, as he trudged along close to the other’s elbow. “In fact, I’ve noticed some of them looking about as if they expected to reach a good camp-ground at any minute. They were tired at the time they lay in wait for us, and must have come a long way.”
“Of course you noticed, Dick, that two of the braves stayed behind when we left the river, though they did catch up with us several hours afterwards?”
“Yes, and it is not difficult to guess what their part in the retreat was,” replied Dick. “They remained to conceal every trace of moccasined feet, so that it would have to be a mighty good tracker who could tell what had happened there on the bank of the small stream.”