CHAPTER XII.
PENCILINGS BY THE WAY.
We have said the hunter was right. By the accidental turning of the hunting knife, he had not only been saved his life, but his efforts had been turned in the right direction.
It must be confessed that Haverland himself had some misgivings about the course which they were taking. He could not believe that the savages were short-sighted enough to place a captive which was secure in their possession, into the hands of one or two of their number, when they were conscious they were pursued. But the decision of the hunting knife could not be appealed from, and in a moody silence he followed in the footsteps of the hunter.
It was now getting far along in the afternoon, and the pursued savages could be at no great distance. Their trail was plain, as no efforts had been made to conceal it; but, although Haldidge strove his utmost to detect signs of Ina's delicate moccasin, he failed entirely; and was compelled, in spite of the assurance which he manifested at the start, to take some misgivings to himself.
The hunter, notwithstanding the consummate cunning and skill he had shown thus far in tracing up the savages, had made one sad mistake. He had been misled altogether in the number of the smaller party. Instead of three or four Indians, there were six; and, as their trails became visible at intervals, he began to think he had undertaken a more difficult matter than he anticipated. Still, it was no time for halting or faltering, and he trode resolutely forward.
"Ah—some more signs," exclaimed he, stopping suddenly.
"What are they?" queried his companions eagerly.
"Just notice this bush, if you please, and tell me what you make of it."
The two friends did so, and saw that one of the branches of some sprouts of chestnut, growing round a stump, had been broken short off, and lay pointing toward the trail.
