"They may be Zitner and Burwink."
"Not likely, but if they come to our fire we shall soon find out. Look!"
To their astonishment, the little fire which they had left only a few minutes before burned up brightly, showing that a lot of fuel had been thrown on it.
Too many trees and too much undergrowth obtruded for them to detect anything more than the great increase in brightness.
"The darkness will prevent their following our footprints," whispered the mother.
"I will go a little nearer and find out what it means: it may be, after all, that they are friends."
"Be careful, my son."
"I will."
It was not a hard task Ben Ripley gave himself. He had not far to go, and he proceeded with so much caution that no risk was involved. Only half the distance was passed when he gained a full view of the camp fire and its surroundings.
The sight was disquieting. Three Indian warriors were there. One had been gathering dry sticks which he flung on the blaze; another was helping himself to what was left of the cooked turkey; while the third, bent low, moved slowly around the lit up portion of the ground with his eyes fixed on it.