Page:Barbour--Metipoms Hostage.djvu/163

Rh sound of a voice to alarm him. He peered forth from his leafy screen and strove to read  the trail, but the well-trod earth told him  nothing. He was at an elbow of the path. A few paces away in each direction it bent eastward. Already the leaves of a witch hazel were pale with the first rays of sunlight that  filtered down through the thick forest. No longer was it possible for him to travel the  trail, though it might be that by proceeding  slowly and with much caution he could follow it through the woods. But he was sore and stiff in every muscle and his hands and  face, whipped and scratched by the branches,  were tender to the touch. He still craved rest, and yet he knew that should the English  not come soon from the village, their coming  would concern him little, for already the Indians were doubtless seeking him. For the first time it occurred to him that, after all, he  had no certain knowledge that his friends  had come for him yesterday. There might be some other reason for concealing him in the  cave. Perchance an alarm had been brought to the fort that later had proven false. The thought dismayed him and for a moment he contemplated taking the trail boldly and  making what haste his tired limbs would al-