Читать книгу Trail and Trading Post; or, The Young Hunters of the Ohio онлайн

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The gun was gone!

For the moment the young hunter could not believe the evidence of his senses. He remained in a crouching position, wondering what he had best do. He felt that an enemy must have taken the gun, and wondered who it could be. With caution he looked around, but not a soul was in sight.

It was a peculiar position to be in, and small wonder that the cold perspiration stood out upon the young hunter’s forehead. He had been in peril before, among the Indians, and felt fairly certain that a red man had gotten the better of him.

What was best to do? He asked himself the question several times, his heart beating meanwhile like a trip-hammer within his breast. An enemy was surely at hand. What would be the next movement of the unknown?

Cautiously he put his hand to his side, drew his hunting knife, and arose slowly to an upright position. Overhead the branches of the trees were tightly interlaced, making the spot rather gloomy. The stream came down between a number of rocks which were backed up by bushes and trees. Would it be best to make a dash for this shelter?