d to look back.

They saw a black mass of yelling, struggling, fighting savages
crowding around the church.

"Oh! Jim, look back! Look back!" cried Nell, holding hard to his
hand. "Look back! See if Girty is coming!"

Chapter XXVII.

At last the fugitives breathed free under the gold and red cover of
the woods. Never speaking, never looking back, the guide hurried
eastward with long strides. His followers were almost forced to run
in order to keep him in sight. He had waited at the edge of the
clearing for them, and, relieving Jim of the heavy pack, which he
swung slightly over his shoulder, he set a pace that was most
difficult to maintain. The young missionary half led, half carried
Nell over the stones and rough places. Mr. Wells labored in the
rear.

"Oh! Jim! Look back! Look back! See if we are pursued!" cried Nell
frequently, with many a earful glance into the dense thickets.

The Indian took a straight course through the woods. He leaped the
brooks, climbed the rough ridges, and swiftly trod the glades that
were free of windfalls. His hurry and utter disregard for the plain
trail left behind, proved his belief in the necessity of placing
many miles between the fugitives and the Village of Peace. Evidently
they would be followed, and it would be a waste of valuable time to
try to conceal their trail. Gradually the ground began to rise, the
way become more difficult, but Wingenund never slackened his pace.
Nell was strong, supple, and light of foot. She held her own with
Jim, but time and time again they were obliged to wait for her
uncle. Once he was far behind. Wingenund halted for them at the
height of a ridge where the forest was open.

"Ugh!" exclaimed the chieftain, as they finished the ascent. He
stretched a long arm toward the sun; his falcon eye gleamed.

Far in the west a great black and yellow cloud of smoke rolled
heavenward. It seemed to rise from out the forest, and to hang low
over the trees; then it soared aloft and grew thinner until it lost
its distinct line far in the clouds. The setting sun stood yet an
hour high over a distant hill, and burned dark red through the great
pall of smoke.

"Is it a forest fire?" asked Nell, fearfully.

"Fire, of course, but---" Jim did not voice his fear; he looked
closely at Wingenund.

The chieftain stood silent a moment as was his wont when addressed.
The dull glow of the sun was reflected in the dark eyes that gazed
far away over forest and