“Do you see anybody around?” asked Dave. He was so agitated that he could not speak. Oh, if only he knew the whole truth about his father!
Sam Barringford shook his head and so did Joseph Morris. Not a soul could be seen, and slowly the three made their way to a point opposite the stockade gate.
“The gate is shut,” announced Dave. “I suppose it is barred, too.”
“More’n likely,” answered Sam Barringford. He was looking at the loopholes with a critical eye. “They are on guard,” he announced, a minute later.
“How do you know that?” questioned Joseph Morris.
“Saw a feller squinting through a loophole jest now. Thar’s another!” went on the old frontiersman.
“I see an Indian!” said Dave, and pointed along the stockade, where a crack in the posts had given him a glimpse of some feathers. “They are surely on the watch.”
“Then they must have learned of our coming!” murmured the planter, and was much discouraged.
A thorough survey of the situation convinced them that the party at the post was indeed on guard. The alarm had been given by a runner of Eagle Nose’s tribe, who had brought the word for Moon Eye’s benefit, the latter chief being related to him by marriage. Jean Bevoir had been greatly surprised, but had at once issued orders both to the Frenchmen and the Indians to keep a close guard.
“Ve shall fight zem,” he said, boldly. “Fight zem to ze end! I vill show zem zat za cannot stand against Jean Bevoir!”