"You deserve to be what you are, a hind, a toter o' burdens, Jim Hart, 'cause your mind is so slow an' dull. You ain't got no light, no imagination, no bloom, a-tall, a-tall! Did I say I wuz ridin' a real hoss? No, sir, not fur a second! But in the fancy, in the sperrit, so to speak, I'm ridin' the finest hoss that ever pranced, an' I'm settin' in a silver saddle, holdin' reins o' blue silk, an' that proud hoss o' mine champs an' champs his jaws on a bit made o' solid gold. Come on, Tom, I ain't 'preciated here. We'll kill that buffler, ef you don't talk me to death on the way. Remember now to hold your volyble tongue. The last time you spoke, ez I told you, you used two words when one would hev done jest ez well. Don't let your gabblin' skeer the buffler plum' to the other side o' the Ohio." He stalked haughtily away, his rifle in the hollow of his arm, and Silent Tom followed meekly. The admiring gaze of Jim Hart followed the shiftless one as long as he was in sight. "Ain't he the most beautiful talker you ever heard?" he asked. "Me an' him hev our little spats, but it's a re'l pleasure to hear him fetch out reasons an' prove that the thing that ain't is, an' the thing that is ain't. That's what I call a mighty smart man. Ef the Injuns ever git him he'll talk to 'em so hard that they'll either make him thar head chief, or turn him loose to keep from bein' talked to death." They heard the sound of a shot, and then a faint halloo from the shiftless one, and when Henry went to the spot he found that he had slain a young cow buffalo, just as he had predicted. Long Jim Hart cooked the tender steaks in his finest style and they spent the rest of the day preparing for the journey, which they believed would take them across the Ohio, and which they knew would be full of dangers. They put out their fire and rested until dusk came. Then they took up again the trail of Wyatt's band and traveled until midnight, when they slept until morning, all save the watch. Henry reckoned that they would reach the river by the next night, and there was a chance that the warriors might recover sufficiently from their fright to rally at the stream. But he felt that in any event he and his comrades must strike. Blackstaffe, Yellow Panther and Red Eagle with their forces would soon be in pursuit, and to escape the net would test the skill and courage of the five to the utmost. Yet all of them believed attack to be the best plan, and, after their sleep, they resumed the trail with renewed strength and vigor, pressing northward at great speed through the deep green wilderness. CHAPTER IV THE CAPTURED CANOE As the five advanced they read the trail with unfailing eye. Henry saw more than once the traces of footsteps with the toes turned out, that is those of Braxton Wyatt, and he noticed that they were wavering, not leading in a straight line like those of the Indians.