Читать книгу The Trail of Black Hawk онлайн

37 страница из 62

Down the stream they went for at least a third of a mile before Deerfoot decided to try the solid earth again. At a small rocky beach they left the brook and struck out through the woods once more. A short time later he once more entered the brook and went ashore on the opposite side. He was doubling on their tracks continually, and certainly no one but a skilled Indian could follow the course he was leading.

After a further flight they came to Fox River. Along its shores were marshes overhung with willows. From underneath one of these Deerfoot drew a canoe, skillfully hidden in the rushes, and a few moments later the three fugitives were seated in this frail craft, paddling swiftly down the stream.

“We fool them, I think,” said Deerfoot grimly. “We fool Black Hawk, all right. He no catch us now.”

“I hope you’re right,” exclaimed Joseph fervently. “I know I should hate to have him catch us.”

“I’ve gotten so I don’t much care what happens,” said Robert, speaking with difficulty.

“Why, what’s the matter?” inquired his brother.