Jacob was only twelve. Lewis was his bigger brother, whom he admired. So he got up, staring--took long breath, and he holding to Lewis's hand, into the moonlit timber they scooted with never a backward look. "We can follow our own trail back to the river," said Lewis. "It'll be easy." "Ouch!" And Jacob began to limp. Lewis stopped. "You wait here. I'll get some moccasins." "No, Lewis! They'll catch you." "No, they won't. We've got to have moccasins." Lewis scudded for the camp. In a minute he had found moccasins and had brought them. That was better. Now they might travel faster. But Lewis halted again. "Wait. I'm going to get father a gun!" "No, Lewis! Let's hurry. We don't want a gun." "Yes, we do. Maybe we'll have to defend ourselves or kill meat. You wait right here." Back Lewis scudded, a second time. He was a boy without fear. He brought a gun and ammunition. Then they hastened on. This time they had not gone far before they heard muffled voices behind them. The Indians had wakened and were on their trail. "Hurry!" Jacob gasped. "Run!" "No. They'd catch us sure. Our legs are too short. You do as I say, Jakie. When they get near, we'll hide and let 'em pass us. That's the way." They hurried, but they kept listening. At what he thought ought to be the right time--when the voices and the twig-crackings were louder--Lewis grasped Jacob's arm. "Now! Into the brush on this side, quick! No noise!" They hid in a good place. Not a minute later two or three of the Indians filed past, like hounds upon the trail. Lewis, clutching Jacob to keep him quiet, waited. No more Indians came. Lewis chuckled. "We'll follow on behind, but we'll have to be watching sharp for 'em to turn back," he whispered. So they followed their pursuers, instead of their pursuers following them. The regular Indian trick had worked finely. But even a rabbit knows enough to do that: to hide beside its trail while its hunters race on. Lewis and Jacob felt smart indeed. They kept their eyes and ears alert. Soon they heard the Indians coming back, on the trail, as if puzzled. "Hide," Lewis whispered. It was done at once, by a silent dart to the left and a squatting behind bushes. Again they held their breaths. Lewis's wound throbbed and stung, but he uttered not a murmur. The Indians passed; their keen eyes noted nothing suspicious; their sounds died away-- "All right, Jakie." They set out once more, hastening on down the forest trail flecked by the moonlight; Lewis led, lugging the heavy gun, Jacob trotted close at his heels. Rabbits hopped and flattened, a fox or two glided, there was nothing dangerous, until-- "Listen!" They two stopped short, and poised, heads turned. Lewis painfully stooped and put his ear to the ground. "They're following us horseback. We'll have to hide again."