The Wolf Hunters - A Tale of Adventure in the Wilderness by James Oliver Curwood
page 29 of 194 (14%)
page 29 of 194 (14%)
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Rod called loudly and listened. There was no response. As if impelled by some presentiment which he himself could not explain, the boy hurried deeper into the forest along the narrow path which Minnetaki must have taken. Five minutes--ten minutes--and he called again. Still there was no answer. Possibly the girl had not gone so far, or she might have left the path for the thick woods. A little farther on there was a soft spot in the path where a great tree-trunk had rotted half a century before, leaving a rich black soil. Clearly traced in this were the imprints of Minnetaki's moccasins. For a full minute Rod stopped and listened, making not a sound. Why he maintained silence he could not have explained. But he knew that he was half a mile from the Post, and that Wabi's sister should not be here at breakfast time. In this minute's quiet he unconsciously studied the tracks in the ground. How small the pretty Indian maiden's feet were! And he noticed, too, that her moccasins, unlike most moccasins, had a slight heel. But in a moment more his inspection was cut short. Was that a cry he heard far ahead? His heart seemed to stop beating, his blood thrilled--and in another instant he was running down the path like a deer. Twenty rods beyond this point the path entered an opening in the forest made by a great fire, and half-way across this opening the youth saw a sight which chilled him to the marrow. There was Minnetaki, her long hair tumbling loosely down her back, a cloth tied around her head--and on either side an Indian dragging her swiftly toward the opposite forest! For as long as he might have drawn three breaths Rod stood transfixed with horror. Then his senses returned to him, and every muscle in his body seemed to bound with action. For days he had been practising with |
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