"What do you suppose he is doing that for?" whispered Victor, peeping around the corner of the rock.
"I'm blessed if I know. He is trimming off the twigs, so as to make the stick smooth."
"Do you suppose he saw us?"
"He couldn't. He has mighty sharp eyes, but he had no chance to look anywhere except in the face of Taggarak, and we haven't shown ourselves since he left."
"It's a queer performance anyway, and I don't feel—"
"Sh! He's looking this way."
The next moment both boys shivered, for, facing the rock which until then they were certain had hid them from view, the Shawanoe called:
"Let my brothers come here. Deerfoot wishes to speak to them."
"He saw us after all!" gasped Victor. "Let's run!"
"What good will that do? There's no getting away from him."