Читать книгу The Trail of Black Hawk онлайн

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At last they emerged from the shelter of the forest onto the prairie. Far ahead of them it stretched like the waters of a huge lake, apparently boundless in its extent. Bushes formed the only cover on this vast expanse of level country and both Joseph and Robert could not help wondering what they should do if their enemies should discover them while they were crossing this plain. There was no choice, however, if they wished to reach Dixon’s Ferry, and the chance must be taken.

Soon their progress was more rapid. Swiftly they walked and as the moon broke from behind a cloud its rays made the three figures look like ghosts, as, bending low, they hurried forward on their perilous journey. Mile after mile they covered and scarcely a word had been spoken since they left Deerfoot’s hut on the island in the swamp. Finally, however, the Indian called a halt.

“We rest here,” he exclaimed, pointing to a clump of bushes nearby as he spoke.

“Good,” said Joseph heartily. “That was a fast pace, Deerfoot.”