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"I am through," Matthew finally said; "I cannot run any more."
"Neither can I," replied Fred; "but see, here is a hollow log; let us creep into it."
At once they remembered that this act was foolish, for the dogs, barking at their prey, would eventually attract the Indians. But they had no time to change their minds; they were dead tired, and no sooner had they slipped into the tree when the animals were upon them.
For a moment the boys were silent, while the dogs endeavored to follow them into the hollow log.
"Say, we are company enough," Fred muttered; "we don't need you in here.
What shall I do, Matthew? Slip me the knife."
"If those dogs are as hungry, as I am," Matthew said, "a little bear's meat might do us good service."
"That's a great idea," Fred answered; "well, hand me some of what is left. It is unfit for us to eat anyway."
The plan worked out well. The dogs swallowed the pieces of meat greedily, and when Fred coaxed them with friendly words, spoken in Pequot, they wagged their tails and showed signs of conciliation.
Slowly Fred crawled out of the log, still feeding the hungry animals of the meat that remained.
Soon he had succeeded in winning their friends.h.i.+p, and when Matthew finally came out from the retreat, the dogs were completely won over.
Together they walked on, the dogs following them, as if they had been friends for many years.
"If we could only get rid of these beasts," Matthew sighed; "they will finally betray us."
"We'll give them the slip soon enough, just as we did to their masters,"
Fred smiled; "wait."
The opportunity was soon granted them, for when suddenly a rabbit jumped out of the thicket, Fred sent them leaping after it, for he was well acquainted with the Indian way of hunting with dogs.
"Now we run straight forward, and the dogs will forget us and finally return to their masters."
They walked rapidly, and to their joy arrived after some time at the place where the log house had stood. While they had made no progress, they at least knew where they were, and could manage a way to reach Hartford.
"We must see whether our horses are still here," Fred said, as he hurried down the bank.
To his astonishment the horses were just coming out of the woods, feeding hungrily on the thick gra.s.s.
"Indians!" he muttered. But then he cried out with joy.
"Agnes!" he cried; "Agnes, you here?"
The girl, who had released the horses and was driving them out of their hiding place, smiled as she saw the boys.
"Brother," she said cheerfully, "Oh, what a surprise!" Then she fell around his neck and kissed him ardently.
CHAPTER XII
AGNES' STORY AND HARTFORD
"We must not stay," the girl said, as soon as she had greeted her brothers. "The Indians will surely come back, and we must reach the other side of the river. I am glad you are here. Oh, how good the Lord is! I prayed for your deliverance ever since I was captured, but did not believe that the good Lord would hear my prayers and grant my request so soon."
"What do you want to do?" asked Fred.
"Tie the horses together, and swim the river. There are no Indians on the other side, and we can make Hartford easily."
"How do you know that?" Matthew asked.
"Don't ask foolish questions," the girl pleaded; "help me get these horses roped together. Then I will leap into the river with the end of the rope tied to my saddle, and the horses must follow. You bring up the rear."
She was so resolute that the boys did not resist, but did her bidding.
"But where did you get that fine Indian pony?" Fred asked when the work was done.
"No questions, until we are on the other side," Agnes said; "that belonged to a Pequot chief once; now it is mine by right of spoils."
She mounted her pony and at once drove it into the stream; the other horses followed, urged on by the showers of blows which Fred and Matthew gave them. The crossing was dangerous, for the river was wide and the current swift. But after much struggling they got across and spurred their mounts up the bank.
"There is a trail that leads north," Agnes said; "let's find it. Loose the horses, and let me ride ahead."
"What a wonderful girl she is!" Matthew exclaimed; "she is a veritable leader."
Soon the boys heard the hooting of an owl, and they whipped their horses into a trot. Agnes had found the trail.
"Come now," she admonished them, "we must do some fast riding, until we are safe. Then I will tell you my story."
For two hours they rode in silence, Agnes taking the lead on her piebald pony which was a wonderful traveler in the woods, much more clever and docile than their own horses.
Sometimes the trail was hard to find, but the Indian pony followed his sense of smell and walked on and on.
"We are making good time, thanks to my pony," Agnes said jubilantly.
"Come on with your steeds, gentlemen; don't mind it, if they are a little tired."
However, the horses were showing signs of fatigue, since they had not eaten for two days.
"Very well," Agnes said; "look!"
The river made a sweeping bend, and from the high bank they could see the fort.
"Hurrah!" Matthew cried; "how good it is to see the dwellings of white men."
"We shall rest now," Agnes suggested, "and allow the horses their meal.
Look at my pony; isn't it a wonder? And it was gotten by just a little trick."
"Yes, tell us the story," Matthew begged.