"Deerfoot," said Fred, the three still standing; "we have concluded that there isn't a better place along the trail for a camp."
To the surprise of the boys, he shook his head in dissent.
"Why, this is where father and the rest spent the night when they last went this way."
He nodded to signify that he agreed with them.
"There were three of them, and they had their horses, that could not be well hid; when my brothers go into camp for the night, they should take a place where all who went by would not see them."
It struck the others as curious that the Shawanoe should talk in that fashion, when they could not see any cause for alarm; but they had enough faith in him to accept his judgment on such an important matter. He added:
"Come with Deerfoot and he will show his brothers where they may slumber in peace."
Without any more explanation the Shawanoe moved down the bank of the brook, following a course parallel to the flow of the water, the other two keeping at his heels. He did not look around until he had gone more than a hundred yards. Then it was that the little party found itself in a rocky section, with a rough cavern on their right—that is, the bowlders and rocks were jumbled together in such a fashion that there was some resemblance to a cave. The chief merit of the place, however, was the privacy that it afforded, rather than the strength as a means of defense against an enemy.
"This suits very well," said Fred, taking in all the points at a glance; "here is a rocky bed on which we can start a fire, and the other rocks and bowlders will keep off the wind, if there happens to be any; the water is handy, if we should need it, and it is certain that we are not as likely to be seen here as where we first selected."
"Deerfut," said Terry, who was nosing about, "I obsarve ashes here, as though somebody had been ahead of us."