While the Indian understood the question, he was puzzled for a moment as to how to make an intelligent answer. He fixed his keen black eyes on the face of the questioner, then looked around the trees as if searching for some aid. These shut out the sun, but it was easy to locate the orb about one-third of the way between the horizon and the zenith. He had struck the key.
"When sun dere," he replied, pointing low down in the sky, "den men ride along on horses."
Wharton Edwards's heart gave a painful start. Of course the Shawanoe could not know that one of the horses carried a woman instead of a man, nor, with all the woodcraft of the American Indian, could he determine within an hour or two the time when the animals had passed along the trail, but he did know of a verity that the passage had taken place since the sun went down on the night before.
Understanding, now, the precise distance to the block-house, and the strong probability that the parties would not leave there in the night time, and well aware, also, from the marks of the hoofprints, that the horses were walking at a leisurely pace, it became an easy matter for him to tell at what time they were due at this particular spot. He had indicated the hour, which was another evidence that the boys were at no great distance from their destination.
"We don't want to go to the block-house," said Wharton, impetuously. "We want to travel the other way. We must overtake those horsemen before they reach the falls."
CHAPTER XXV.
A SINGULAR MEETING.
The paint on the face of the Shawanoe could not hide the astonishment caused by the words of Wharton Edwards. Despite the askew brain, the Indian was wonderfully shrewd in some respects.
"Go after dem—den be killed."