t, who was the most vigorous and athletic of the
three, leaving Robinson and Rich in the camp, set out in pursuit of the
runaways. It was a rough and dreary path he had to tread. There was no
comfortable road to traverse, but a mere path through forest, bog, and
ravine, which, at times, it was difficult to discern. He had hills to
climb, creeks to ford, swamps to wade through. Hour after hour he
pressed on, but the horses could walk faster than he could. There was
nothing in their foot-prints which indicated that he was approaching
any nearer to them.

At last, when night came, and Crockett judged that he had walked fifty
miles, he gave up the chase as hopeless. Fortunately he reached the
cabin of a settler, where he remained until morning. A rapid walk,
almost a run, of fifty miles in one day, is a very severe operation
even for the most hardy of men. When Crockett awoke, after his night's
sleep, he found himself so lame that he could scarcely move. He was,
however, anxious to get back with his discouraging report to his
companions. He therefore set out, and hobbled slowly and painfully
along, hoping that exercise would gradually loosen his stiffened joints.

But, mile after mile, he grew worse rather than better. His head began
to ache very severely. A burning fever spread through his veins. He
tottered in his walk, and his rifle seemed so heavy that he could
scarcely bear its weight. He was toiling through a dark and gloomy
ravine, damp and cold, and thrown into shade by the thick foliage of
the overhanging trees. So far as he knew, no human habitation was near.
Night was approaching. He could go no farther. He had no food; but he
did not need any, for a deathly nausea oppressed him. Utterly
exhausted, he threw himself down upon the grass and withered leaves, on
a small dry mound formed by the roots of a large tree.

Crockett had no wish to die. He clung very tenaciously to life, and yet
he was very apprehensive that then and there he was to linger through a
few hours of pain, and then die, leaving his unburied body to be
devoured by wild beasts, and his friends probably forever ignorant of
his fate. Consumed by fever, and agitated by these painful thoughts, he
remained for an hour or two, when he heard the sound of approaching
footsteps and of human voices. His sensibilities were so stupefied by
his sickness that these sounds excited but little emotion.

Soon three or four Indians made their appearance walking al