Joe and Harry had been cautioned not to go too far, and to keep a close watch for Indians. But their anxiety to bring in at least one good-sized deer had caused them to roam further from the camp than at first anticipated. They had seen no game until the four deer burst into view, closely followed by the two Indians already mentioned.
CHAPTER II
PURSUED BY THE INDIANS
“Do you really think the Indians would prove unfriendly?” questioned Harry, as both boys crouched down behind a thick clump of bushes.
“I do—if they belong to the crowd who called upon us yesterday. There was one Indian in particular, a tall chap, who looked bloodthirsty enough for anything,” said Joe.
“You mean the fellow called Long Knife?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t deny he did look ugly, Joe. But then a redskin can’t help his looks.”
Here the talk came to a sudden end, for a splashing in the brook reached their ears, telling that the two Indians were not far away. They had not gone after the deer as the boys had imagined, but were coming closer. Harry clutched Joe’s arm, and both youths crouched lower than ever in the grass and brushwood.
In a minute more the two red men were less than a rod away, and the boys could hear them talking softly to one another. Peeping through the bushes, Joe made out the savage face of Long Knife, and saw that the Indian carried a musket of ancient pattern, and a horn of powder and ball, as well as his bow and arrows, and his tomahawk. The second Indian was similarly armed.
Hardly daring to breathe, the boys remained behind the bushes until the Indians had passed the spot and followed the course of the stream a distance of several rods further. Then Harry touched Joe on the arm.