Through a crevice in the log the boys
looked after them and saw them disappear in the thick woods. They
remained in their covert until night, when they started again on their
long journey, taking a new route to avoid the Indians. At daybreak they
again concealed themselves, but travelled the next night and day without
resting. By this time they had consumed all the bread which they had
taken, and were fainting from hunger and weariness. Just at the close of
the third day they were providentially enabled to kill a pigeon and a
small tortoise, a part of which they ate raw, not daring to make a fire,
which might attract the watchful eyes of savages. On the sixth day they
struck upon an old Indian path, and, following it until night, came
suddenly upon a camp of the enemy. Deep in the heart of the forest,
under the shelter of a ridge of land heavily timbered, a great fire of
logs and brushwood was burning; and around it the Indians sat, eating
their moose-meat and smoking their pipes.
The poor fugitives, starving, weary, and chilled by the cold spring
blasts, gazed down upon the ample fire; and the savory meats which the
squaws were cooking by it, but felt no temptation to purchase warmth and
food by surrendering themselves to captivity.
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