And he nervously fumbled a small bag hanging round his neck and rolled his eyes in alarm toward the village. “I am ready,” Sevier said, springing into the saddle. “Death ever lurks where Red Hajason is.” “Chief Watts’ Chickamaugas are very close,” warned the Jumper. “Let them come,” was the careless reply. “We have not turned back, not so much as a foot.” And, shaking the reins, he rode down the trail with his guide at his stirrup. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VII IN THE MAW OF THE FOREST Once they struck into the old Creek trail the Jumper went on ahead; for this was a red path and the Indian by scouting in advance was supposed to reduce the chances of a surprise attack by Polcher. Near sundown they came to a small creek where the Jumper wanted to camp for the night. “Let my brother gather wood for the fire while I look about the forest for signs,” said Sevier, eager to reconnoiter his back trail. The man of the Deer clan guessed his purpose and reminded— “If you are seen turning back, if only for a few steps, there are those who will be glad to kill you.” “I shall not be seen turning back,” reassured Sevier. “I go to find signs and kill a wild turkey.” “The forest has eyes that watch you,” warned the Jumper. “My medicine has told me that Death walks along the Creek trail.” “Death walks everywhere,” carelessly returned Sevier. “And it skips the brave to touch the coward.” Taking his rifle, he crossed the trail and, as soon as he was out of hearing of the Cherokee turned north and made for a heavily wooded hill. He had noted this elevation shortly before arriving at the creek and knew it would be an excellent vantage point for spying on the back country. He ascended it without detecting any signs of his trackers and lost no time in climbing a tree. The stretch of country he had covered that afternoon was spread out below him in broad relief. For the most part the view consisted of the forest crown but there were occasional openings and it was on the nearest of these that he focused his gaze. He glimpsed nothing that hinted at pursuit. He studied the birds but was unable to discover any symptoms of alarm. This emptiness of the trail puzzled him, for he had been convinced his every step would be dogged until he crossed into the country of the Creek. Leaving the tree, he descended the hill and, pausing only long enough to knock over a turkey, made his way back toward the creek.