It was a hard night journey. Occasionally as we toiled onward I could
hear Elsie moan and sob, but Eloise gave utterance to no sound, except
to reply cheerfully whenever I addressed her. The exceeding roughness
of the passage made our progress slow, and quite frequently we were all
obliged to dismount, generally glad enough of the change, and plod
forward for some distance on foot. I possessed no knowledge then as to
where we were, the map having deceived me so often I had long since
lost all confidence in it as a guide, but now, in this later day, I can
trace our progress with some degree of accuracy, and know that we
passed that night in the valley of Bureau Creek, blindly groping our
way forward toward a fate of which we little dreamed.
Nor did those weary hours of darkness bring to us the slightest
warning, I do not recall feeling any special fear. In the first place
I was convinced that we must already be at the extreme limit of Black
Hawk's radius, and that, traveling as we were eastward, must before
morning be well beyond any possible danger of falling into the hands of
his warriors. The other pursuers I had practically dismissed from
thought. Not for twenty-four hours had we perceived the slightest
signs of Kirby's presence in our rear, and my faith was strong that his
party had either lost our trail, or been turned aside by fear of
encountering Indians. In this respect Kennedy remained more
pessimistic than I, yet even in his mind confidence began to dawn that
we had outstripped our enemies, both white and red, and that a few
miles more must bring us in safety to some pioneer settlement.
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