Part 12 (1/2)
”I am through,” Matthew finally said; ”I cannot run any more.”
”Neither can I,” replied Fred; ”but see, here is a hollow log; let us creep into it.”
At once they remembered that this act was foolish, for the dogs, barking at their prey, would eventually attract the Indians. But they had no time to change their minds; they were dead tired, and no sooner had they slipped into the tree when the animals were upon them.
For a moment the boys were silent, while the dogs endeavored to follow them into the hollow log.
”Say, we are company enough,” Fred muttered; ”we don't need you in here.
What shall I do, Matthew? Slip me the knife.”
”If those dogs are as hungry, as I am,” Matthew said, ”a little bear's meat might do us good service.”
”That's a great idea,” Fred answered; ”well, hand me some of what is left. It is unfit for us to eat anyway.”
The plan worked out well. The dogs swallowed the pieces of meat greedily, and when Fred coaxed them with friendly words, spoken in Pequot, they wagged their tails and showed signs of conciliation.
Slowly Fred crawled out of the log, still feeding the hungry animals of the meat that remained.
Soon he had succeeded in winning their friends.h.i.+p, and when Matthew finally came out from the retreat, the dogs were completely won over.
Together they walked on, the dogs following them, as if they had been friends for many years.
”If we could only get rid of these beasts,” Matthew sighed; ”they will finally betray us.”
”We'll give them the slip soon enough, just as we did to their masters,”
Fred smiled; ”wait.”
The opportunity was soon granted them, for when suddenly a rabbit jumped out of the thicket, Fred sent them leaping after it, for he was well acquainted with the Indian way of hunting with dogs.
”Now we run straight forward, and the dogs will forget us and finally return to their masters.”
They walked rapidly, and to their joy arrived after some time at the place where the log house had stood. While they had made no progress, they at least knew where they were, and could manage a way to reach Hartford.
”We must see whether our horses are still here,” Fred said, as he hurried down the bank.
To his astonishment the horses were just coming out of the woods, feeding hungrily on the thick gra.s.s.
”Indians!” he muttered. But then he cried out with joy.
”Agnes!” he cried; ”Agnes, you here?”
The girl, who had released the horses and was driving them out of their hiding place, smiled as she saw the boys.
”Brother,” she said cheerfully, ”Oh, what a surprise!” Then she fell around his neck and kissed him ardently.
CHAPTER XII
AGNES' STORY AND HARTFORD