"Whoever he is, he is coming this way, and he is in a hurry," whispered the youth.
"By the way he runs I calkerlate he's an Injun," came from the old frontiersman, and he looked at the priming of his flintlock, something which at once caused Dave to inspect his own weapon. "Git behind yonder bushes an' we'll see who he is, an' whar he's bound."
They had just disappeared behind the bushes Barringford had pointed out, when the red man appeared. He caught a brief glimpse of them, but it was enough, and with the quickness of lightning he leaped into the forest and disappeared.
"Spotted us!" muttered the old frontiersman, much crestfallen.
"Do you suppose he is alone?" asked Dave.
"Reckon as how he is, lad. But he may be nothin' but a spy, with a hundred o' the red varmints behind him."
"Shall we try to get behind him and cut him off from going back?"
Before Barringford could answer there arose on the air the loud and clear note of the night-bird, thrice repeated.
"Listen!" ejaculated Dave. "I think I know that note!"
They listened and presently the sound was repeated. Then Dave put his little fingers in his mouth and gave a loud and peculiar whistle in return. This was answered, and the youth whistled a second time.