A score of red-skins might be close at hand, and if so what benefit would the death of one of them be to him.
The savage had not seen him, therefore he remained motionless, but with the rifle still brought to bear upon him.
For the space of a minute the savage remained upon the spot where he had appeared, gazing about him as though in some way he scented danger, and then he moved on, and the next instant was lost to sight.
No sooner had he disappeared than the scout sprung to his feet, and after listening intently for a moment, as though to catch the sound of other footsteps, he glided swiftly away on the trail.
Hardly had two minutes elapsed from the time he had sprung to his feet, when the bushes were parted, and another savage stepped upon the very spot where the Death-Dealer had lain.
Carefully he bent down and examined the ground, and in a moment was satisfied that it had but just been vacated.
The twigs and wild grass which had been bent down by the weight of the scout’s body, were springing up, striving but vainly to stand erect again.
This told him as plainly as words could have done that whoever had lain there was only that moment gone.
The footprints about the spot told him that it was a white man; and evidently the savage felt assured that it could be none other than the Death-Dealer.
A mingled look of joy and rage came over his face, as he glanced eagerly along the trail the scout had left behind him.