With these words Israel departed. Peleg watched his friend as long as he remained within sight, and then began with caution to retrace the way over which they had come. Keeping a firm grip upon Singing Susan, Peleg darted from tree to tree and did not venture from each refuge until he was convinced that no one was near him. His attempt to proceed was interrupted, however, by the report of a rifle, and again a bullet whistled uncomfortably close to his head, tearing some splinters from the tree at his elbow. The young scout at his utmost speed darted into the wood at his right. He was aware that a swift flight could not long be maintained because of his recent exertions. Where a refuge might be found he did not know. But just then he noticed the trunk of what appeared to be a huge hollow tree leaning over a shallow brook, across which he must leap if he continued his flight. He entered the stream, ran swiftly a few steps with the current, and then retraced his way to the tree. It was but the work of a moment for him to climb to the broken top, and great was his relief when he saw that the tree indeed was hollow. Without thought of where he might fall he dropped into the welcome opening. He fell several feet before the decayed wood provided a foothold strong enough to enable him to stand. Fortunately the hollow of the tree was larger than his body, and although he was cramped and almost blinded by the decayed mass, he nevertheless managed to reach his hunting-knife, and, making a small opening through the soft wood, peeped out to see if his enemies were within sight. As he did so his fears were aroused that the tree itself might fall. It was a mere shell and so decayed that he was surprised that his descent had not torn it asunder. At that moment a wild cry, plainly from the road, came to his ears. Then shouts were followed by the reports of guns and answering whoops from the Indians. Anxious for his friend Israel, Peleg turned once more to ascertain if any of his enemies were near his hiding-place. He was hopeful that his trail could not be followed farther than the bank of the little brook, although he was sufficiently familiar with Indian ways to know that the red men, if they really were pursuing him, would run in either direction along the banks until they found the place where he had left the water. He smiled as he recalled how he had been standing in the stream when he had thrown his arms around the trunk of the bending tree. Singing Susan was still held, but it would be impossible for him in his cramped position to make use of her musical voice.