and likeliest to secure success. Despite his anxious
impatience, the strategy of the old soldier tells him, that careless
haste may defeat its chances.

In fine, a scouting party is dispatched, Hawkins at its head as guide,
the Creole commanding.

Armstrong himself remains behind, to organise the main body of settlers
getting ready for pursuit.

CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN.

A STRAYING TRAVELLER.

A man on horseback making his way through a wood. Not on road, or
trodden path, or trace of any kind. For it is a tract of virgin forest,
in which settler's axe has never sounded, rarely traversed by ridden
horse; still more rarely by pedestrian.

He, now passing through it, rides as fast as the thick standing trunks,
and tangle of undergrowth will allow. The darkness also obstructs him;
for it is night. Withal he advances rapidly, though cautiously; at
intervals glancing back, at longer ones, delaying to listen, with chin
upon his shoulder.

His behaviour shows fear; so, too, his face. Here and there the
moonbeams shining through breaks in the foliage, reveal upon his
features bewilderment, as well as terror. By their light he is guiding
his course, though he does not seem sure of it. The only thing
appearing certain is, that he fears something behind, and is fleeing
from it.

Once he pauses, longer than usual; and, holding his horse in check, sits
listening attentively. While thus halted, he hears a noise, which he
knows to be the ripple of a river. It seems oddly to affect him,
calling forth an exclamation, which shows he is dissatisfied with the
sound.

"Am I never to get away from it? I've been over an hour straying about
here, and there's the thing still--not a quarter of a mile off, and
timber thick as ever. I thought that last shoot would have taken me out
of it. I must have turned somewhere. No help for it, but try again."

Making a half-face round, he heads his horse in a direction opposite to
that from which comes the sound of the water. He has done so
repeatedly, as oft straying back towards the stream. It is evident he
has no wish to go any nearer; but a strong desire to get away from it.

This time he is successful. The new direction followed a half-mile
further shows him clear sky ahead, and in a few minutes more he is at
the forest's outmost edge. Before him stretches an expanse of plain
altogether treeless, but clothed with tall grass, whose culms stirred by
the night breeze, and s