"Now," said he, "let my brothers follow Deerfoot's finger and tell me what they see."
Pointing well to the right, he slowly swung his index finger toward the left, until he had described about a quarter of a circle.
Since it was not easy for the two to look exactly at the point meant, at the same time, Terry Clark first tried it. Removing his cap, he closed one eye and carefully peered along the extended arm of the Shawanoe as though it was a rifle which he was about to aim and fire.
"What is it?" asked Fred, a moment later, with some impatience over the plodding deliberation of his companion.
"I obsarve a big lot of traas, some rocks, some water and a claarin' where ye could raise a big lot of praties, and—and—and—"
"I see what you mean!" exclaimed Fred in some excitement; "right in the middle of the clearing stands a large cabin made of logs."
"It's mesilf that obsarves the same," added Terry, replacing his cap and looking inquiringly at the Shawanoe, who let his extended arm fall as he faced about and said: "That is the home of my brothers; that is the cabin of the Hunters of the Ozark."
"Hurrah!" called out Terry; "we're purty near there."
"But we don't know how matters stand," said Fred; "even Deerfoot can not tell whether they are all alive or dead."
"I know bitter than that," remarked Terry, appealing straight to the Shawanoe, who, without directly answering the question, notified them of an interesting fact: a thin column of smoke was rising from the cabin.