eemed
to mean that a wild animal was near us. My eyes had been searching the
darkness around and before us, and at last I whispered:

"'Stop, Milt. Let us light the lantern!'

"Then stooping down, I spread out my skirts so that not the slightest
flash of a match or gleam of light could be seen by the sentinel or by
any one in the encampment. Milton lighted the lantern. I took it in
one hand, and with the other held my skirts up in such a way as to
shield its beams, and in its feeble light I searched the ground still
frantically for some trace of the footprints of father's horse.
Although I was nervous and excited enough to fly on the wings of
lightning, I did not let the feeling get the better of me, but made a
deliberate search of every inch of ground, making a complete circle
around the outskirts of the camp, for I was determined to find those
tracks. At last! There they were, unmistakable and clear. I gave a
smothered cry and showed them to Milt. Then, still with the lantern
carefully covered, so that no unguarded flash might bring a
death-dealing shot from the sentinel's rifle, I followed where they
led, Milt close behind, carrying the gun and provisions. Mile after
mile we followed--followed, now seeing the tracks, now losing them. Oh
what an agony was compressed in those awful hours!

[Illustration: VIRGINIA GOES FORTH TO FIND HER EXILED FATHER]

"Suddenly on the midnight air came the wild howl of coyotes. From the
distance echoed an even more hideous cry--that of the panther, seeking
for prey. At that sound Milton's hair literally stood on end, and if I
had shown one sign of weakening he would gladly have given up the
search. But I went on, closing my ears to the dreaded sounds. All of a
sudden my heart beat so wildly that I was obliged to press my hand
over it to quiet its hammering. What I heard or saw or felt I can
never explain, but I know that all the terror of my thirteen years of
life seemed to be condensed into one moment of dread. And yet go on I
must, praying to God to protect us and let me find father. I pushed
ahead, with panic holding me in its wild grip as I pictured a horrible
death if we should be captured by Indians. Then suddenly with
wide-strained eyes and fluttering heart, I forgot all weariness and
fear. In the far distance a dim, flickering light. Gripping Milt's
arm, I whispered:

"'Father!'

"No sooner had I said it than I thought, 'Perhaps it is an Indian
camp-fire.' But common se