"Let us go ahead," said he at last, to Henry. "I cannot stand this suspense."
"I'm willing enough," answered his nephew. "Only let us take Sam along."
This was done, and despite the protests of the sharpshooters they were soon out of sight. A little later White Buffalo joined them, having taken the nap already mentioned.
The trail was just as difficult to follow as before, and more than once they had to halt in perplexity, for the thickets seemed impassable.
"You must have had your own troubles in following the trail," said Henry to
White Buffalo, in admiration.
"Slow work, but sure," said the Indian chief, with a little smile. "White
Buffalo is growing old—he cannot follow like one whose eyes are bright."
At last they reached the cliff. Not wishing to abandon their horses, they made a detour, coming up to the Indian village by what might be termed a back way. In a thicket they tethered their steeds and once on foot each inspected his weapon to see that it was ready for use.
"Don't want any trip-up this time," said Henry, to the flint-lock he carried. "You have played me tricks enough. After this I want you to behave yourself."
It was decided that James Morris and White Buffalo should go slightly in advance—the Indian chief to point out the different parts of the village. Luckily no dogs were near to betray their approach.
To their amazement they found the village practically abandoned, only the women and children and a few very old men being present. The old chief, Mamuliekala, was likewise gone.