CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
A LILLIPUTIAN FOREST.
Guiding their course by the stars the fugitives continue on--no longer going in a run, nor even in a very rapid walk.

Despite the resolution with which he endeavours to nerve himself, the wounded man is still too weak to make much progress, and he advances but laggingly.

His companion does not urge him to quicken his pace.

The experienced prairie man knows it will be better to go slowly than get broken down by straining forward too eagerly.

There is no sign or sound of Indian, either behind or before them.