"Keela will guide you," said Philip. "She could follow the trail with
her eyes closed. The horses are saddled at the edge of camp. You'll
be there by daylight."
He smiled and held out his hand and his eyes were encouraging. The
hands of the two men tightened. Carl stumbled blindly away at the
heels of the Indian girl. Philip watched them go--watched Keela lead
the way with the lithe, soft tread of a wild animal, and mount--watched
Carl swing heavily into the saddle and follow. Silhouetted darkly
against the watery moon, the silent riders filed off into the
swamp-world to the south. For an instant Philip experienced a sudden
flash of misgiving but Philip was just and honorable in all things and
having disciplined himself to faith in his friend, maintained it.
Then his eyes wandered slowly to the wigwam of Diane. Thinking of the
story of the candle-stick, with his mouth twisted into a queer, wry
smile, Philip fumbled for his pipe.
"_Requiescat in pace_," said Philip, "the hopes of Philip Poynter!"
CHAPTER XXXIX
UNDER THE WILD MARCH MOON
Southward under the watery moon and the wild, dark clouds rode the
Indian girl, following a trail blazed only for Indian eyes. The
aquatic world about them had grown steadily wilder, more remote from
the haunts of men.
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