in case of discovery, lead to the recapture of the girls, he at once agreed to the decision. If the flight of the girls was discovered soon after leaving the camp, it was arranged that the Seneca and Peter should hurry at once with them to the main body, while the other two Indians should draw off their pursuers in another direction. In the event of anything occurring to excite the suspicion of the Indians before there was a chance of the girls being brought safely to the main body, they were to be left to walk quietly back to camp, as they had nothing to fear from the Indians. Peter and the Seneca were then to work round by a circuitous route to the boat, where they were to be joined by the main body, and to draw off until another opportunity offered for repeating the attempt.
It was eight o'clock in the evening when Pearson and the Seneca approached the village. The fires were burning high, and seated round them were all the warriors of the tribe. A party were engaged in a dance representing the pursuit and defeat of an enemy. The women were standing in an outer circle, clapping their hands and raising their voices in loud cries of applause and excitement as the dance became faster and faster. The warriors bounded high, brandishing their tomahawks. A better time could not have been chosen for the evasion of the fugitives. Nelly Welch stood close to a number of Indian girls, but slightly behind them. She held the hand of little Janet Cameron.
Although she appeared to share in the interest of the Indians in the dance, a close observer would have had no difficulty in perceiving that Nelly was preoccupied. She was, indeed, intently listening for the signal. She was afraid to move from among the others lest her absence should be at once detected, but so long as the noise was going on she despaired of being able to hear the signal agreed upon. Presently an Indian brave passed close to her, and as he did so whispered in her ear in English, "Behind your wigwam—friends there." Then he passed on and moved round the circle as if intending to take his seat at another point.
The excitement of the dance was momentarily increasing, and the attention of the spectators was riveted to the movements of the performers. Holding Janet's hand, Nelly moved noiselessly away from the place where she had been standing. The movement was unnoticed, as she was no longer closely watched, a flight in the depth of winter appearing impossible. She kept round the circle till no longer visible from the spot she had left. Then, leaving the crowd, she made her way toward the nearest wigwams. Once behind these the girls stole rapidly along under their shelter until they stood behind that which they usually inhabited. Two figures were standing there. They hesitated for a moment, but one of them advanced.
"Jack Pearson!" Nelly exclaimed, with a low cry of gladness.
"Jest that same, Nelly, and right glad to see you. But we've no time for greeting now; the hull tribe may be after us in another five minutes. Come along, pretty," he said, turning to Janet. "You'll find somebody ye know close at hand."
Two minutes later the child was in her father's arms, and after a moment's rapturous greeting between father and child and a very delighted one between Nelly Welch and her Cousin Harold, the flight was continued.
"How long a start do you think we may have?"
"Half an hour, maybe. The women may be some time afore they miss her, and they'll sarch for her everywhere afore they give the alarm, as they'll be greatly blamed for their carelessness."
There had been a pause in the flight for a few seconds when the Seneca and Pearson arrived with the girls at the point where Peter and the other Indian were posted, two hundred yards from the camp. Up to this point the snow was everywhere thickly trampled, but as the camp was left further behind the footprints would naturally become more scarce. Here Pearson fastened to the girls' feet two pairs of large moccasins; inside these wooden soles had been placed. They therefore acted to some extent like snowshoes and prevented the girls' feet from sinking deeply, while the prints which they left bore no resemblance to their own. They were strapped on the wrong way, so that the marks would seem to point toward the village rather than away from it. Both girls protested that they should not be able to get along fast in these encumbrances, but one of the men posted himself on either side of each and assisted them along, and as the moccasins were very light, even with the wooden soles inside, they were soon able to move with them at a considerable pace.
Once united the whole party kept along at the top of their speed. Peter Lambton assisted Cameron with Janet, and the girl, half-lifted from the ground, skimmed over the surface like a bird, only touching the snow here and there with the moccasins. Nelly Welch needed no assistance from Harold or Pearson. During the long winters she had often practiced on snow-shoes, and was consequently but little encumbered with the huge moccasins, which to some extent served the same purpose.
They had been nearly half an hour on their way when they heard a tremendous yell burst from the village.
"They've missed you," Peter said. "Now it's a fair race. We've got a good start and 'll git more, for they'll have to hunt up the traces very carefully, and it may be an hour, perhaps more, before they strike upon the right one. Ef the snow had been new fallen we should have had 'em arter us in five minutes; but even a redskin's eye will be puzzled to find out at night one track among such hundreds."
"I have but one fear," Pearson said to Harold.
"What is that?"
"I'm afeared that without waiting to find the tracks they may send off half a dozen parties to the lake. They'll be sure that friends have taken the gals away, and will know that their only chance of escape is by the water. On land we should be hunted down to a certainty, and the redskins, knowing that the gals could not travel fast, will not hurry in following up the trail. So I think they'll at once send off parties to watch the lake, and 'll like enough make no effort to take up the trail till to-morrow morning."
This was said in a low whisper, for although they were more than two miles from the village it was necessary to move as silently as possible.
"You had best tell the others what you think, Pearson. It may make a difference in our movements."
A short halt was called, and the Seneca and Peter quite agreed with Pearson's idea.
"We'd best make for the canoe that's furthest off. When the redskins find the others, which they're pretty sure to do, for they'll hunt every bush, they're likely to be satisfied and to make sure they'll ketch us at one or the other."
This much decided upon, they continued their flight, now less rapidly, but in perfect silence. Speed was less an object than concealment. The Indians might spread, and a party might come across them by accident. If they could avoid this, they were sure to reach their canoe before morning and unlikely to find the Indians there before them.
It was about twelve miles to the spot where they had hidden the canoe, and although they heard distant shouts and whoops ringing through the forest, no sound was heard near them.
Chapter XV.
The Island Refuge.
The night was intensely cold and still and the stars shone brightly through the bare boughs overhead.
"Are you sure you are going all right?" Nelly asked Harold. "It is so dark here that it seems impossible to know which way we are going."
"You can trust the Indians," Harold said. "Even if there was not a star to be seen they could find their way by some mysterious instinct. How you are grown, Nelly! Your voice does not seem much changed, and I am longing to see your face."
"I expect you are more changed than I am, Harold," the girl answered. "You have been going through so much since we last met, and you seem to have grown so tall and big. Your voice has changed very much, too; it is the voice of a man. How in the world did you find us here?"
Pearson had gone on ahead to speak to the Seneca, but he now joined them again.
"You mustn't talk," he said. "I hope there's no redskins within five miles of us now, but there's never any saying where they may be."
There was, Harold thought, a certain sharpness in