Once Uriah Risley gave a cry of alarm and came close to discharging his fire-arm. A wolf had slunk across their path in the darkness and the Englishman took the form to be that of a sneaking Indian.
"A redskin! He will scalp us!" he cried, and was on the point of pulling the trigger when Dave stopped him.
"No! no!" It's only a wolf!" cried the youth. "Don't waste your powder and ball. Besides, a shot will arouse every Indian for quarter of a mile around."
"A wolf? So it must have been." Uriah Risley drew a long breath and lowered his musket. "He gave me a good scare, I must vow."
"Hush! It won't do to talk so loud," went on the boy. "For all we know the Indians may be trailing us and be ready to pounce on us at any moment."
These words caused the Englishman to glance back apprehensively, and hurry on faster than ever. "It's a beastly woods," he said. "I wish we were out of it."
"We are safer here than in a clearing," was the answer. "Come close behind me and keep quiet, and I think we'll be safe."
On and on they went. Dave's lower limbs ached and trembled under him, for he was now almost
