Old Rocks made no answer, but returned to the little pile of fuel he had acc.u.mulated. This he quickly pulled over, selecting several sticks. He thrust the end of one into the flames, and, in a few moments, had a lighted torch.

"Git yer guns," he directed, "an' come erlong with me."

They did so, with the exception of the professor, who never touched a weapon if he could avoid it. However, he followed the others, and Old Rocks quickly took up the trail once more.

Frank was filled with anxiety for the safety of little Fay. He wondered greatly that the child should arise and creep from the tent without disturbing any one, and then flee into the darkness, but he did not doubt that Rocks had read the sign correctly.

It almost seemed that the guide was able to follow the trail by scent, for he moved swiftly, bending low, and holding the torch close to the ground.

In vain Frank looked for a footprint. The ground did not seem soft enough to yield such a mark, and still Old Rocks seldom hesitated a moment.

Along the valley they went, stringing out one after the other, their hearts throbbing with anxiety.

In this manner they proceeded at least half a mile, and then they came to a stretch of timber. The trail led straight into the woods.

Old Rocks growled and shook his head, and it was plain that he was quite as anxious as any of them.

For a moment they paused on the border of the strip of woods, while the guide got down on his hands and knees and closely inspected the trail.

"Was she alone when she reached this spot?" asked Frank.

Old Rocks nodded.

"It's ther dernedest thing I ever heerd of!" he grumbled. "How a little babby like thet should git up o' her own accord and go prowlin' off inter ther night gits me."

"It is ridiculous," said Professor Scotch. "Such a thing never happened before, and I can't believe it happened on this occasion. Why, she would have been frightened out of her senses. Somebody must have lured her away. That man you call the Hermit must have done it, and I will wager something she joined him as soon as she left the tent."

The guide gave a snort.

"Thet's enough to say I'm a derned fool! Ef ther babby left a trail, you will allow ther man must hev done ther same."

"Of course he did."

"Wa-al, looker yere. Hyar's a bit o' soft ground, an' you kin see whar she crossed over, but I'll be derned ef you kin see any track but ther ones she made."

He held the torch for them to examine the ground, and the tracks left by the child were plainly visible. It was true that she had pa.s.sed into the timber alone.

"There's a mystery about this that I cannot understand," murmured Frank.

"It looks loike she wur a sure enough fairy," said Barney. "Av not thot, thin this is th' Ould Nick's oun worruk!"

At this moment all were startled by a cry that came from the timber--the cry of a child, broken and smothered.

Old Rocks straightened up, and the light of the torch fell on four pale, startled faces.

"Something has happened to her!" panted Frank. "Forward, man, forward!

She may have been attacked by a wild beast!"

In another instant the guide was striding swiftly along the trail, making it necessary for the others to run in order to keep up with him.

They penetrated the timber for a considerable distance, and then, of a sudden, Old Rocks stopped short, stooping low to stare at the ground, grinding an exclamation of dismay through his teeth.

"What is it?" demanded Frank fearing the worst.

After a hasty survey of the ground, the guide replied:

"Injuns! Ther leetle gal has been ketched by ther p'izen varmints, sure as shootin'!"

CHAPTER XXIX.

FACE TO FACE.

"Th' saints defind her!" cried Barney.

"Indians?" panted Frank. "Are you sure?"

"Wa-al, I reckon! Hyar's ther marks. See them hoof prints thar. Notice they toe in. Thet is Injun sign."

"I--I think we had better return to the camp at once," fluttered Professor Scotch.

"Not much!" exclaimed Frank, fiercely. "If she has fallen into the hands of those red wretches, we must follow them and rescue her."

Old Rocks nodded.

"You talk all right, youngster; but I reckon yer sand would ooze out on a pinch. All ther same, we must foller ther skunks."

"Go on!" came from Barney. "Begobs! we'll show yez av we've got sand!"

"But I am not feeling well," protested the professor.

"Then ye'd better go back," snarled Old Rocks. "You'll be more bother then good, anyhow."

"I--I can't go back through the darkness. I should lose my way. You must accompany me to the camp."

"An' waste all thet time? Wa-al, I ruther guess not! Time is too valuable just now."

"This is a terrible sc.r.a.pe!" fluttered Scotch. "I expect we'll all be killed before we get out of it!"

The guide seemed to hesitate, casting a sidelong look at the professor, as if he longed to get rid of the man in some way, but did not know how.

"I kin do as much erlone as I kin with ther hull o' yer," he finally said. "I reckons ye'd best all go back."

"I guess not!" cried Frank. "I am with you through thick and thin! You will remember that I found the child, and she called herself my fairy.

It is my duty to help rescue her."