The cave was dark. A faint musty odor lingered from generations of small animals that had sheltered there, seeking protection from the fierce winters. Hannah crouched in the farthest corner. So complete was her terror that she scarcely felt the jagged rocks, hard enough to bruise, pressed against her back. Her heart pounded so loudly that she feared it would be heard echoing between the narrow damp stone walls.
Through an opening that was low to the ground and barely large enough to squeeze through, she could see the scuff marks she had made in the dry earth. Her breath caught in her throat in panic. The Iroquois were skilled trackers. They were sure to see the evidence she had left. She forced herself to move, but her foot bumped the half-filled bucket of berries she had brought into the cave with her. The bucket struck the stone wall of the cave with a soft metallic ping. Hannah froze. There was no triumphant yell, no pounding feet to indicate the sound had betrayed her presence. After a minute, she allowed herself to breathe again. Stepping around the bucket, she crouched at the low entrance and peered out. Was she really alone? Or was someone there, just out of sight, waiting for her to show herself?
