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Wyoming

CHAPTER XXXVII.
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the conference between golcher and the chief, gray panther, was vigorous, even if brief. orders of such a positive nature had been sent that it was probable neither dared disregard them.

the seneca chief called eight of his warriors about him, said something in his guttural fashion, and then he and they disappeared in the wood.

it looked as if they had been commanded to cross the river and join the main force on the western bank in some important enterprise.

this left precisely eleven indians, so far as could be seen, with jake golcher to carry out his designs. when fred godfrey realized the size of the force, he said in an undertone to his father:

"if we only had our guns now, we could make a good fight against them."

"but we haven't—so what's the use of talking of an impossibility?"

it was apparent to the fugitives, who were watching everything, that golcher himself was a little uneasy over the shape matters had taken. instead of going to where the captives were sitting on the fallen tree, he stood apart with two of the warriors, discussing something with as much earnestness as he had talked to gray panther.

the meaning of this was soon made plain, when he came over, and, addressing habakkuk mcewen, said loud enough for all ears:

"we've concluded to move camp."

"what's that for?" asked the new englander.

"none of your business," was the reply, given with equal promptness.

the anxiety of mcewen to gain the good-will of his master, however, would not permit him to hold his peace, and he hastened to interject several questions.

"i say, jake, ain't you going to unfasten these twists of wood that are cutting my arms almost in two? i think them injins must have took a couple of hickory saplings to bind me."

"i ain't satisfied about you, yet," said the tory, in that hesitating manner that showed he was pretty well convinced that his prisoner, after all, was what he professed to be, although, for some reason, he chose to restrain his indorsement to him.

"wal, you orter be," growled habakkuk; "i'm the best tory in the wyoming valley; and this is a purty way to sarve me."

the renegade smiled, as if he rather liked that kind of talk, but he did not make any move to relieve his captive of his bonds. within the next three minutes the entire party were moving through the wood toward some point of whose locality the prisoners had no idea.

mr. brainerd was glad, for he was hopeful it would give fred the desperate chance for which he was waiting. during the last few minutes the father had regained some degree of hope, and he looked to the daring young lieutenant to give a good account of himself, should any opening appear.

as for fred, himself, he was on the alert; but it must have been that the subtle jake golcher suspected the truth, for he took extreme precaution.

the ladies walked in front this time, with a couple of indians on either side, mcewen and brainerd came next, while fred was honored with four warriors, who were as wide-awake as cats. the one on his right and the one on his left kept a hand on his shoulder, so as to detect the first move; and, as his wrists and his elbows were securely held together, it was inevitable that the first instant he made a break, no matter how skillfully done, that instant he would be killed.

fred could not fail to see this, and he was too wise to give any pretext for violence toward him.

"they will not keep such close watch all the way," he thought. "we have a considerable distance to walk, and i shall have the chance after a little while—hello!"

to his chagrin the halt was made at that moment.

hardly had the shadowy figures come to a standstill, when one of the senecas dropped on his knees and began using a flint and steel, sending out a shower of sparks like that seen from an emery-wheel. in a few seconds a bright fire was under headway.

the indians had simply changed their quarters—that was all. the curious thing about it was, the two places were no more than a couple of hundred yards apart, and were so alike that but for the starting of the new fire, the captives would have believed they were the same.

the meaning of this movement was a mystery to those chiefly concerned, but they could do nothing less than accept it.

when the camp-fire was crackling and threw out a bright glow in every direction, the resemblance to the spot just vacated was found to be still more striking.

there was the fallen tree, upon which the companions in captivity seated themselves, looking questioningly in each others' faces, but they now heard the plash and murmur of some small waterfall, that was not in their ears a brief while before. that was about the only proof that they had really made a change of base.

under the directions of jake golcher, the fuel was heaped upon the fire, so that it was practically mid-day so far as captors and captives were concerned.

mr. brainerd looked reproachfully at fred and said, in a low voice:

"i didn't expect to see you here when we stopped."

"and i hoped i wouldn't be, but there has not been the ghost of a chance."

"i don't see when or where we shall get a better one; i don't propose to sit here and let them tomahawk us to death, as queen esther did with those poor wretches this afternoon."

"we may not be able to prevent it; but as i made an effort then, so i will this time, when worst comes to worst."

"what in the name of the seven wonders was this change made for?"

"i can scarcely form an idea, but there must have been some cause."

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