THEY gained the top of the divide and began the descent of the farther slope. They heard no more whoops behind them, but Lachlan knew that their pursuers would have no difficulty in following the trail. Luck had not been with them, after all. The pursuers had been so close behind them on the buffalo path that the passage of the herd, obliterating their tracks, had gained them no respite. Evidently the Indians had pushed on after the herd had passed, throwing out scouts into the woods on either hand; and by an ill chance one of these scouts had seen them.
Their lives depended now upon their speed. One fact was in their favour: Lachlan knew from the whoops that they had heard that these Indians following their trail were Cherokees, not Appalaches, and the Cherokee war parties were generally unmounted. If they could reach the old trading road in time, they could outdistance these pursuers, provided no other enemies barred the way. Lachlan knew also how grave this danger was, knew that they could hardly hope to ride that road unseen and unchallenged. But the risk had to be faced. There was no choice now.
