The Forest Runners | Page 8

He would not move until Henry gave the word.
He saw what a wise precaution it was, when, a half hour later, seven or
eight warriors came walking back on the logs, and thrust with sticks
into the little patches of open water between them. Henry and Paul
crouched closer in their covert, and the warriors stalked back and forth,
still searching.
Henry knew that the Shawnees, failing to find a place beyond the debris
where the fugitives had emerged upon the bank, would believe that
they might be hidden under the logs, and would not give up the hunt
there. If they should happen to find the rifles and ammunition, they
would certainly be confirmed in the conclusion, but so far they had not
found them. Henry, looking between the logs, saw them pass near the
place of concealment, but they did not stop, and were soon near the
other bank. It would have bitterly hurt his pride if they had found the
rifles, even had he and Paul escaped.
An hour more they waited, and then the last warrior was out of sight,
gone up the river.

"I think we may crawl out now," whispered Henry; "but we've still got
to be mighty careful about it."
Pad took a step and fell over in the water. His legs were stiff with the
wet and cold; but Henry dragged him up, and before trying it again he
stretched first one leg and then the other, many times.
"We must make our way back through the logs and brush to the rifles,"
whispered Henry, "and then take to the woods once more."
"I think I've lived in a river long enough to last me the rest of my life,"
Paul said.
Henry laughed. He, too, was stiff and cold; but, a born woodsman, he
now dismissed their long hiding in the water as only an incident. The
two reached the precious rifles and ammunition, drew them forth from
concealment, and stepped upon the bank, rivulets pouring from their
clothing, and even their hair.
"I think we'd better go back on our own trail now," said Henry. "The
war party has passed on, and is still looking for us far ahead."
"We've got to dry ourselves, and somehow or other get that powder to
Marlowe," said Paul.
"That's so," said Henry. "We came to do it, and we will do it."
He spoke with quiet emphasis, but Paul knew that he meant to perform
what he had set out to do, come what might, and Paul was willing to go
with him through anything. Neither would abandon the great task of
helping to save Kentucky. But they were still in a most serious position.
They had been many hours in water which was not now warmed by
summer heat, and they were bound to feel the effect of it soon in every
bone. Henry glanced up at the heavens. It was far past noon, and the
golden sun was gliding down the western arch.
"I think," said Henry, "that it would be best for us to walk, as fast as we
can on the back track, and then try to dry out our clothing a little."

He started at once, and Paul walked swiftly by his side. The rivulets
that ran from their clothing decreased to tiny streams, and then only
drops fell. The sinking sun shot sheaves of brilliant beams upon them,
and soon Paul felt a grateful warmth, driving for the time the chill from
his bones. He swung his arms as he walked, as much as the rifles would
allow, and nearly every muscle in his frame felt the touch of vigorous
exercise. His clothing dried rapidly.
Two hours and three hours passed, and they heard no more the cries of
the warriors calling to each other. Silence again hung over the
wilderness. Rabbits sprang up from the thickets. A deer, frightened by
the sound of the boys' footsteps, held up his head, listened a moment,
and then fled away among the trees. Henry took his presence as a sign
that no other human being had passed that way in the last hour.
The sun sank, the twilight came and died, and darkness clothed the
wilderness. Then Henry stopped.
"Paul," he said, "I've got some venison in my knapsack, but you and I
ought to have a fire. While our clothes are drying outside they are still
wet inside and we can't afford to have a chill, or be so stiff that we can't
run. You know we may have another run or two yet."
"But do we dare make a fire?" asked Paul.
"I think so. I can hide the blaze, and the night is so dark that the smoke
won't show."
He plunged deeper into the thickets, and