“An Indian!” cried Dave. “He just leaped behind a tree over yonder.”
“An Indian!” was the cry from several, and in a moment everybody was on his feet and had his firearm in hand.
“We may be surrounded,” came from Raymond. “Better lie low,” and his advice was obeyed. As they scattered to the nearby rocks and bushes, Silvers moved cautiously towards the spot where Dave had discovered the red man.
“You are certain it was a redskin?” asked Henry, who had placed himself beside his cousin. “It’s pretty dark to see anything.”
“I know a redskin when I see him, Henry. But I must admit that he was very low, and the way he got out of sight was a marvel.”
“Oh, they can move in a hurry when they have to. One thing is certain, he isn’t friendly to the English, or he wouldn’t be afraid to show himself.”
The two young soldiers waited with bated breath. Each had put a fresh priming on his gun and felt to see that his flint-lock was in good condition. Their very lives might depend upon the shots they made.
Presently they heard voices at a distance, that of Silvers and the guttural tones of a red man.
“If you are alone, come out here and we won’t shoot you,” they heard the sharpshooter say. “Boys don’t shoot this fellow!” he called back to his companions.
“We hear you, cap,” answered Raymond, and a moment later Silvers appeared from the forest, followed by the Indian, who carried only a bow and several arrows.