A minute later the old guide called to them to come on.
“Bully for Eli; he’s lost no time in making good!” exclaimed Giraffe.
The whole party crowded around the old guide, who was on his knees on the ground, apparently examining some tracks he had found. He waved a hand to keep them from crowding too close to him, so as to interfere with his work.
Bending low, Thad could easily see the marks. Some one had been crouching there in the bushes, and spying on the camp. That he could not be an honest woodsman it was easy to guess, for as such he would have stalked straight into camp, sure of the warm welcome that is always extended to a stranger who looks good.
Eli pointed to the impression close to the footprints.
“Thar’s whar he rested the butt o’ his rifle,” he said, positively, and Thad knew it was exactly as Eli declared, just as though he could himself see the actions of the hidden man. “Got on his knees and crawled up to whar he c’ud poke his nose outen the scrub hyar, an’ watch us. And hyar’s whar he was arestin’ on jest wun knee; cause ye kin see the mark o’ his foot beyond.”
“What was he doing that for?” asked Thad, though deep down in his heart he seemed to instinctively know.
“Wall, I kinder guess naow thet he mout a be’n a tryin’ to see how he cud kiver wun o’ us with his gun!” replied Eli.
He beckoned to Jim, and that worthy approached. There was a troubled look on the face of the younger guide that Thad could not but notice; and he realized that the affair might not be so great a mystery to Jim as it seemed to the rest of them.
“Take a squint at them hood tracks hyar, Jim; p’raps ye mout sorter reckernize the same,” Eli remarked drily.