"Quiet! There they go!"
One Indian strode into the clearing, followed by another, then by two abreast, between whom a woman was walking, her head bent as if in despair, with steps painful and labored. Behind these came three other savages. They passed across the clearing—the whole seven, with their captive like the moving figures in a panorama, and entered the wood upon the opposite side.
"Every mother's son of them is in his war-paint," said Lewis—who, by the way, divided his words with Tom, the other two rarely speaking except when directly appealed to.
"Who said they wasn't?" demanded Tom. "And what difference does it make? They've got somebody's gal there, hain't they? eh? Say. And what's the odds whether they've daubed themselves up with their stuff or not?"
"Well, what's the next move? To set up a yell and pitch after them?"
"None but a fool would want to do that."
"But don't you notice the bank gets so low down yonder that it won't hide us, and we'll have to show ourselves?"
"It'll hide us as long as we want to be hid. Come, don't squat here, or we'll let the rascals slip, after all."
Again the three moved down the bank, as rapidly, silently and cautiously as spirits, ever and anon raising their heads as they gained a glimpse of the Indians passing through the wood. The latter were following a course parallel with the Miami, so that the relative distance between the two parties remained nearly the same. It was manifest to the hunters that the Indians intended crossing the river with their captive at some point lower down, and were making toward that point. It was further evident from the deliberation in their movements, and from the fact that they were not proceeding in "Indian file," that as yet they had no suspicion of being pursued, although every one of their number knew of the existence of the Riflemen of the Miami—that formidable confederation whose very name was a word of terror even to their savage hearts. Entirely unsuspicious of the danger which menaced them, every thing was in favor of the hunters.
For several hundred yards further, the two parties maintained their relative distance, the Indians proceeding at a usual walk, and the whites at a very irregular one—now running rapidly a few steps, and then halting and gazing over the bank to ascertain the precise whereabouts of their enemies; then skulking a few yards further, and halting as before, remaining all the time nearly opposite the "braves." Suddenly the latter came to a stand.