Good-night." He lifted his hat ironically, waved it to his followers, and the next moment the whole party were galloping furiously towards the high road.
For the first time that evening a nervous sense of apprehension passed over Courtland.

The impending of some unknown danger is always more terrible to a brave man than the most overwhelming odds that he can see and realize.

He felt instinctively that they had uttered no vague bravado to cover up their defeat; there was still some advantage on which they confidently reckoned--but what?
Was it only a reference to the other party tracking them through the woods on which their enemies now solely relied?
He regained Cato quickly; the white teeth of the foolishly confident negro were already flashing his imagined triumph to his employer.

Courtland's heart grew sick as he saw it.
"We're not out of the woods yet, Cato," he said dryly; "nor are they.
Keep your eyes and ears open, and attend to me.

How long can we keep in the cover of these woods, and still push on in the direction of the quarters ?" "There's a way roun' de edge o' de swamp, sah, but we'd have to go back a spell to find it." "Go on!" "And dar's moccasins and copperheads lying round here in de trail! Dey don't go for us ginerally--but," he hesitated, "white men don't stand much show." "Good! Then it is as bad for those who are chasing us as for me.