At this the man shook his head. “Nobody—on—only Indians!” he gasped.
“Then something has certainly happened to Sam,” said Dave, and gave a sigh that came from the very bottom of his young heart.
CHAPTER XXIV
SNOWBOUND ON THE TRAIL
Another council of war was held, and two of the frontiersmen went scouting around once more. Not a sign was to be seen of the Indians, and at last Joseph Morris concluded to advance as before, but with everybody on the alert.
“If Sam comes back to this point he will know that we have gone on and can follow us up,” said the planter.
The sick man had to be carried on a stretcher, and the men took turns at the task. As soon as breakfast was had, the expedition moved, three frontiersmen well to the front, on the watch for the first sign of the enemy.
Thus a mile had been covered, and they were approaching a spot where their route lay between a cliff and a hill, when an interruption came from the rear. The expedition halted, and a minute later Sam Barringford came up on a run, and well-nigh exhausted.
“I war afraid ye’d move afore I got back,” panted the old frontiersman. “Ye hadn’t ought to have done it. You be a-walkin’ right into a hornets’ nest.”
“Where have you been?” questioned Dave.
“Been follerin’ them Injuns. They are a bad crowd under Eagle Nose, an’ they mean to wipe us out, if they kin do it. They held a grand pow-wow last night, and they have moved forward to the cliff and the hill thet’s ahead. When we go through below they reckoned to shoot us down with bullets an’ arrows, an’ roll some big rocks down on us. I waited to learn jest what they war up to an’ thet kept me from gittin’ back to camp afore.”