He picked his way with such patience and slowness that Blossom found plenty of time in which to lift his feet as high as he knew how, setting them down as though afraid of waking a slumbering baby near at hand.
Within two rods of the spot where they halted they suddenly caught the starlike twinkle of a point of fire directly ahead. Instantly all stopped, and no one spoke; they knew that it was the camp-fire of the party whose presence the Shawanoe learned a few minutes before.
Nothing more than the glimmer of the light could be seen, because there were so many trees and so much vegetation intervening.
"Let my brothers wait till I return," said Deerfoot, turning his head so as not to speak too loud.
"It shall be done," replied Ned Preston, who was on the point of asking a question, when he became aware that he and Blossom were alone: Deerfoot had vanished with the silence of a shadow.
"If we've to wait yar a long time," said Blossom in a husky whisper, "we might as well sot down."
Preston made no objection to this on the part of his servant, but he remained standing himself, leaning against a tree, while Blossom supported his head in the same way.
"I don't care if Deerfoot doesn't come back for a week," remarked the negro lad, with a sigh of contentment that at last he was permitted to rest his limbs.
"He will not stay long," said Ned; "and the best thing we can do while he is away is to do nothing."
"Dat's just what I'm doin' as hard as I can."