Ah, he would follow Long-Hair, indeed he would! The needed courage came with the thought, and so with immense labor he crept at the heels of that crawling monster.

It was a painful process, for his arms were still fast bound at the wrists with the raw-hide strings; but what was pain to him?
He shivered with joy, thinking of what might happen.

The voice of the wind overhead and the noisy bubbling of the stream near by were cheerful and cheering sounds to him now.

So much can a mere shadow of hope do for a human soul on the verge of despair! Already he was planning or trying to plan some way by which he could kill Long-Hair when they should reach a safe distance from the sleeping camp.
But how could the thing be done?
A man with his hands tied, though they are in front of him, is in no excellent condition to cope with a free and stalwart savage armed to the teeth.

Still Beverley's spirits rose with every rod of distance that was added to their slow progress.
Their course was nearly parallel with that of the stream, but slightly converging toward it, and after they had gone about a furlong they reached the bank.