On they went as before. Dave was now footsore and exhausted and glad to think that a night of rest was so close at hand. Reaching the lake, they took a careful look around and then trudged to the cove the old frontiersman had mentioned. Not a single trace of the Indians could be discovered, and they almost buried themselves in a hollow, backed up by rocks and fronted by thick clumps of trees.
"We won't dare to make a fire until after dark," said Barringford. "The smoke would betray us."
They rested for half an hour and then both tried their luck at fishing. But bites were scarce and each caught only one small fish.
"Never mind, that will do till morning," said Dave. "I'm too tired to try for more. I'd rather go to bed half hungry."
With care they built a tiny fire deep down among the rocks, so that the light could not be seen from a distance. Over the blaze they broiled the squirrel and the fish and then sat down to enjoy the meal.
"Do you think one of us ought to stay on guard?" asked Dave.
"It might be safer, lad, but considering all things, I reckon we can risk it to-night. We can put out the fire, and get back in the bushes, and I don't think they'll locate us. It's going to be a dark night. Maybe it will rain."
But little more was said, and Dave soon turned in. Barringford followed his example, and five minutes later both were sleeping soundly.