“‘What’n all creation’s that?’ said Jake, coming to a sudden halt.
“‘Indians,’ said I, looking ahead as far as I could.
“‘Ingins! No, sir, it’s Pete; and that’s somethin’ a-hurting him. Let’s run out that way,’ said Jake.
“‘H-o-o-o-o! bah-h-h! he-e-e-oy! murder-r-r! hoo-o-o-oy!’ came the sounds, so thick and fast that it was scarcely possible to distinguish any space between them.
“We dashed off towards the point from whence the sounds issued.
“‘Bla-a-a-blah! bla-a-a-bloo! ho-o-o-oyh!’ went the sufferer, if such it really was, and ‘ipitty-tip’ through the thick shrubs went Jake and I, now nearly out of breath. Nearer and nearer came the sounds, until presently the light of a fire broke in upon our visions.
“‘What kin all this mean, guvner?’ said Jake.
“‘It’s an Indian decoy. We’re in for a fight,’ said I, loosening my bowie-knife.
“‘No. Don’t think it’s Ingins; tha wouldn’t a’ kindled a fire that-a-way. No; can’t be Ingins! ’Sides, tha is friendly now,’ said Jake, as he dodged behind in my footsteps, striving to appear brave.
“At length we reached within hail of the fire, but, although the sounds of distress continued, we could perceive nothing beyond a log and a little brushwood around it on fire. Not a human form was visible; yet the strange sounds came forth as fresh as formerly, and, what was more unaccountable, they appeared to issue immediately from the fire. What was it?—the Evil One, or an Indian decoy, surely, for, as the fire was not larger than a bushel measure, we believed that no creature with life could be in it.