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

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“There—I don’t think that Indian can follow me to here,” he told himself. “The question is, How am I to get back to Henry without being discovered, and how are we both to get back to the fort?”

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Dave’s hasty flight had tired him out, and he was glad enough to sit down upon one of the rocks and rest. The cloudiness in the sky had continued, and it looked as if there might be a shower before nightfall.

The young hunter was in anything but a cheerful frame of mind, and would have given a good deal to have been back at the fort once more. He was worried also about his cousin, and trusted that Henry would not fall into the hands of the Indian.

At last, having gotten back his breath, he resolved to start off once more and see if he could not locate the spot where he had left his cousin. He walked through the forest with extreme caution, often coming to a halt, to survey the surroundings and make sure that the enemy was nowhere near.

Thus a full hour more was consumed, and he knew that Henry would now be growing exceedingly anxious concerning his prolonged absence.