“The hellions ar’ makin’ ready to come at us here,” said Mace, grimly.
“Not yit,” remarked Scarred Eagle, who had stepped into the canoe in order to hear better. “I’d sooner think one or both of the others ar’ taken.”
“I kain’t b’l’eve but what they got off. I see ’em run the minit they fired. Thar couldn’t ’a’ b’en many thet follered ’em. The row we made brought most on ’em back. ’Twould be jest like the chaps to turn back ag’in the minit thar come a chance, though.”
“The Lord help ’em ef they be took, now,” said Scarred Eagle. “No kind of a chance ’s left us to help ’em, when thar’s so small a prospect o’ helpin’ ourselves. Step in here, Ben, an’ we’ll steal out a piece towarts the entrance.”
As the latter obeyed, Rhodan turned toward Brom.
“Tother canoe ’ll hold the rest on ye, boy. Ef ye hear a stone splash in the water hereaway, push out at once.”
In a moment longer he had turned the angle and disappeared.
Those behind now stationed themselves where they could hear the least unusual sound. None of them attempted to converse. Their suspense was too deep.
Half an hour thus passed, or rather dragged; for to those waiting, it seemed hours. What could keep Scarred Eagle and Mace? Directing Revel to steady the remaining canoe, Brom stepped to its further end, and managed to obtain a view outward. He saw an outline of the other canoe drawing silently toward him through the gloom, and far beyond he plainly distinguished one or two moving bodies, revealed by the degree of light prevailing outside.
As he stepped back, Scarred Eagle and Mace glided to the chamber and landed. Their report was not a cheering one. As Brom had suspected, the Indians in their canoes were watching the mouth of the passage.