Ross's keen eye fell upon him.
"I think you'd better mount one of the horses," he said; "the big bay there can carry his salt and you too for a while until you are rested." "What! I ride, when everybody else is afoot!" exclaimed Mr.Pennypacker, indignantly.
"You're the only schoolmaster we have and we can't afford to lose you," said Ross without the suspicion of a grin.
Mr.Pennypacker looked at him, but he could not detect any change of countenance.
"Hop up," continued Ross, "it ain't any time to be bashful.

Others of us may have to do it afore long." Mr.Pennypacker yielded with a sigh, sprang lightly upon the horse, and then when he enjoyed the luxury of rest was glad that he had yielded.
Paul, and one or two others took to the horses' backs later on, but Henry continued the march on foot with long easy strides, and no sign of weakening.

Ross noticed him more than once but he never made any suggestion to Henry that he ride; instead the faint smile of approval appeared once more on the guide's face.
The sun began to sink, the twilight came, and then night.

Ross called a halt, and, clustered in the thickest shadows of the forest, they ate their supper and rested their tired limbs.

No fire was lighted, but they sat there under the trees, hungrily eating their venison, and talking in the lowest of whispers.
Mr.Pennypacker was much dissatisfied.