Part 25 (2/2)

”I don't hear anything,” said Albert, after ten minutes. ”Maybe they've lost us.”

”No such good luck! Those curs of theirs would lead them. No, Al, we've got to keep straight on as long as we can!”

Albert stumbled on a rock, but, quickly recovering himself, put greater speed in every jump, when he heard the Indian shout behind him.

”We've got to shoot their dogs,” said d.i.c.k. ”We'll have no other chance to shake them off.”

”If we get a chance,” replied Albert.

But they did not see any chance just yet. They heard the occasional howl of a cur, but both curs and Indians remained invisible. Yet d.i.c.k felt that the pursuers were gaining. They were numerous, and they could spread. Every time he and Albert diverged from a straight line--and they could not help doing so now and then--some portion of the pursuing body came nearer. It was the advantage that the many had over the few.

d.i.c.k prayed for darkness, a shading of the moon, but it did not come, and five minutes later he saw the yellow form of a cur emerge into an open s.p.a.ce. He took a shot at it and heard a howl. He did not know whether he had killed the dog or not, but he hoped he had succeeded. The shot brought forth a cry to their right, and then another to the left. It was obvious that the Sioux, besides being behind them, were also on either side of them. They were gasping, too, from their long run, and knew that they could not continue much farther.

”We can't shake them off, Al,” said d.i.c.k, ”and we'll have to fight. This is as good a place as any other.”

They dropped down into a rocky hollow, a depression not more than a foot deep, and lay on their faces, gasping for breath.

Despite the deadly danger d.i.c.k felt a certain relief that he did not have to run any more--there comes a time when a moment's physical rest will overweigh any amount of mortal peril.

”If they've surrounded us, they're very quiet about it,” said Albert, when the fresh air had flowed back into his lungs. ”I don't see or hear anything at all.”

”At least we don't hear those confounded dogs any more,” said d.i.c.k. ”Maybe there was only one pursuing us, and that shot of mine got him. The howls of the cur upset my nerves more than the shouts of the Sioux.”

”Maybe so,” said Albert.

Then they were both quite still. The moonlight was silvery clear, and they could see pines, oaks, and cedars waving in a gentle wind, but they saw nothing else. Yet d.i.c.k was well aware that the Sioux had not abandoned the chase; they knew well where the boys lay, and were all about them in the woods.

”Keep close, Albert,” he said. ”Indians are sly, and the Sioux are the slyest of them all. They're only waiting until one of us pops up his head, thinking they're gone.”

Albert took d.i.c.k's advice, but so long a time pa.s.sed without sign from the Sioux that he began to believe that, in some mysterious manner, they had evaded the savages. The belief had grown almost into a certainty, when there was a flash and a report from a point higher up the slope. Albert felt something hot and stinging in his face. But it was only a tiny fragment of rock chipped off by the bullet as it pa.s.sed.

Both d.i.c.k and Albert lay closer, as if they would press themselves into the earth, and soon two or three more shots were fired. All came from points higher up the slope, and none hit a living target, though they struck unpleasantly close.

”I wish I could see something,” exclaimed Albert impatiently.

”It's not pleasant to be shot at and to get no shot in return.”

d.i.c.k did not answer. He was watching a point among some scrub pines higher up the slope, where the boughs seemed to him to be waving too much for the slight wind. Looking intently, he thought he saw a patch of brown through the evergreen, and he fired at it. A faint cry followed the shot, and d.i.c.k felt a strange satisfaction; they were hunting him--well, he had given a blow in return.

Silence settled down again after d.i.c.k's shot. The boys lay perfectly still, although they could hear each other's breathing. The silvery moonlight seemed to grow fuller and clearer all the time. It flooded the whole slope. Boughs and twigs were sheathed in it. Apparently, the moon looked down upon a scene that was all peace and without the presence of a human being.

”Do you think they'll rush us?” whispered Albert.

”No,” replied d.i.c.k. ”I've always heard that the Indian takes as little risk as he possibly can.”

They waited a little longer, and then came a flare of rifle shots from a point farther up the slope. Brown forms appeared faintly, and d.i.c.k and Albert, intent and eager, began to fire in reply.

Bullets sang by their ears and clipped the stones around them, but their blood rose the higher and they fired faster and faster.

”We'll drive 'em back!” exclaimed d.i.c.k.

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