youth. "But they are not going to catch us if I can help it—and I think I can."
While the two were talking they sped on and on, deeper and deeper into the forest. Both wished to turn in the direction of home, but did not dare do so, fearing the Indians would be waiting to head them off.
At the start the shouts of their pursuers had sounded unpleasantly close but now they died out utterly. But whether the redskins had given up the chase or were coming on in silence they could not tell.
"I don't think they'll give up so quick," was Henry's comment, as they paused a few seconds to get their breath. "I reckon they've found it doesn't pay to yell. We may get another volley of arrows before we know it."
Once more they went on. Their course was now in a wide semi-circle, calculated to bring them up in the clearing on the east side of their homestead.
"We'll pass Uriah Risley's new cabin," said Dave. "It is our duty to warn him of this danger. He isn't much of an Indian hunter, and if the redskins come here he and his wife will be at their mercy."
Uriah Risley was an Englishman who had settled in the vicinity with his wife several years before. When Dave was once on a trip to Annapolis
