“They sartin suspect that it leads to our retreat,” he said. “But one thing ag’in’ ’em is ’t they ain’t got any canoes. Thet is, none thet I could diskiver.”
“Some above!” said Moorooine. “Up near fort. Mebbe git them.”
“It may be they will, gal,” said Rhodan. “We’ll know in the course of an hour. It’ll be dark by that time.”
The veteran scout sat down upon the hard bottom of the cave and became silent. There seemed no further chance for that species of strategy of which he was so perfect a master. A few hours would decide their fate, and all knew it.
A small keg of spirits and a quantity of jerked venison had been found in the canoe which Mace had brought in. All partook sparingly, and then, seeing that their weapons were in the best possible order, huddled together awaiting events.
At last the sounds made by the enemy above them ceased. They had evidently become satisfied that they were expending their strength for nothing. What would they next do?
“Ain’t it dark outside by this time?” inquired Brom at last.
“No, not yet,” replied Scarred Eagle. “It’s no use o’ pokin’ out that way till we’re sure ’tis.”
At this moment they heard the echoes of shouts above the dull roar of the waters. They at once knew the sounds must have come from near the east side of the camp, else they could not have reached their ears.
The rangers huddled close to the edge of the landing, and bent forward.