Gradually Neil's voice became weaker.

When he stopped to rest and listen his panting breath came to Nathaniel like the hissing of steam.

Soon the echoes failed to come back from the forest, and Nathaniel fought like a crazed man to free himself, jerking at the thongs that held him until his wrists were bleeding and the rawhide about his neck choked him.
"No use!" he heard Neil say.

"Better take it easy for a while, Nat!" Marion's brother had turned toward him, his head thrown back against the stake, his face lifted to the sky.

Nathaniel raised his own head, and found that he could breath easier.