“How fer do yer make it—­frum this place ter thar?”

“Well, here is probably the stream we waded up last night—­see.  I should say we must be about where I make this mark.  To Ottawa?  I will make a guess that it is a bit over a hundred miles, and from there to Chicago sixty or seventy more.  Those last would be over a good trail.”

“An’ whar do yer reckon are them Injuns—­the hostile ones; this yere bunch o’ Black Hawk’s?”

“Somewhere up Rock River, or along the Green Valley.  I’ll point it out to you—­see; there is where Black Hawk had his village and his hunters ranged all over this country, down as far as the Illinois.  Of course, I cannot tell where they are now, for that depends on how far the soldiers have driven them, but it would be my guess they will be somewhere in here—­between Prophetstown and the Winnebago Swamp.”

“Let’s see; thet ain’t so dern fer away either.  I reckon this yere course ye’ve just picked out wudn’t take us mor’n twenty mile er so away.  ‘Spose we’d run inter a raidin’ party o’ them red bucks.  I ain’t got much hair, but I kin use whut I hav’ got.”

“I am not sure, Tim, but I would even prefer that to being overtaken by Joe Kirby and the gang he’ll probably have with him,” I retorted, my gaze on the questioning face of the girl.  “However, there is little chance of our encountering such a party.  The soldiers are all coming up from the south and are bound to force Black Hawk’s warriors to the other bank of the Rock.  There will be nothing but barren country east of here.  What do you say, Miss Eloise?”

Her eyes met mine bravely, without a shadow of doubt in them.

“I shall go wherever you say,” she replied firmly, “I believe you will know best.”

“Then I decide on this route.  Once we get beyond the swamp, those fellows are going to have a hard task following us, unless they have an Indian trailer along with them.  We have been here several hours; the horses must be rested.  Let’s eat what we can again and then start.  We must find a way out of this labyrinth while we have daylight.”

Kennedy stood up and stared about us at the desolate scene, the expression of his face proving his dissatisfaction with the prospect.

“O’ course, I’m a goin’ ’long with yer, Cap,” he acknowledged, dryly.  “I never wus no quitter, but this yere trip don’t look so damned easy ter me, fer all thet.  Howsumever I reckon we’ll pull through som’how, on fut, er hossback.  I’ll wake up thet dark gurl an’ then saddle the hosses.”

I watched him round the corner of the cabin, not wholly at ease in my own mind, then gathered up the map and replaced it in my pocket, aware that Eloise had not moved from her position on the grass.

“Is he right?” she questioned, looking up at me.  “Is there any real danger of Indians?”