Eight
H ow much further?’
‘We must get to the river,’ replied Peg Leg Joe.
‘We can rest there.’
‘Thank God!’
At that moment they heard neighing nearby.
‘Don’t move!’
They stood stock still.
Nothing but the sound of the wind in the leaves of the trees. A horse neighed and another snorted. They seemed to be at the edge of the wood. Perhaps they weren’t the search party. Perhaps travellers were just passing by. Perhaps . . .
But no one travelled at night in these parts if they could avoid it.
Then the sound of barking dogs exploded into the air, a great pack of them, and a rough voice shouted, ‘They’ve caught the scent, they’re near here!’
‘Run,’ hissed Peg Leg Joe. ‘Run like you’ve never run in your life. We’ve got to reach to the river before them whatever happens.’
Papa grabbed
