"He didn't know as much then as he does now; he has seen the thracks of oursilves along the path after the two parted, and then the whole thruth come upon him."
"I wish we could have the chance to save the poor crazy fellow, for he has given his life for us—that is, if he has been shot by any of his people."
"We don't know that he is dead yit; mebbe he managed to use his bow and arrow, and didn't miss, while the other chap as used his gun did, so the yell was the other fellow's."
"We ought to have given him back his knife and tomahawk; I didn't think of it, or we would have done so."
"It couldn't have done him any good in this sort of rumpus."
Some tragedy had been enacted so near them that the youths might well shudder for themselves as well as for their friends.
The sultry summer day was well along. The sun, high in the sky, penetrated the woods with its warmth, and in the broad open plain the heat must have been oppressive. Here and there a tiny bird fluttered among the trees, and suddenly a noble buck came striding along as if he meant to follow the trail to the falls for a drink, but, catching sight of the two young men standing beside the trees weapon in hand, he wheeled and was off in a twinkling, though not before either one of the lads could have gained the best kind of a shot had he dared to fire.
Minute after minute passed, and still there was no sign of the returning guide. The young friends would have been glad to believe he had escaped, but the fleeting minutes caused their hope to sink lower and lower, until at last it was gone.
"It seems to me," said Wharton, "that we are throwing away time by standing here; we shall never see Arqu-wao again."
"I agree with ye; the rest of 'em are miles off, and we might stay here till the sun went down and that's all the good it would do us."