Thus it was that the youth detected two Indians, who came out of the wood on the other side and stopped, as if they were posing for inspection. They talked for some minutes in their own tongue, gesticulating earnestly and then walked toward him.
He quickly shifted his position to the other side of the tree and peered around, but, when they came into the shadow, nothing could be seen of them.
"I believe they know where I am," thought he, "and are amusing themselves at my expense."
Such seemed to be the case, for once more the red men stopped and were actually within reach of him. Since the arms of the latter were still fastened behind him, it can well be understood how he dreaded discovery, his chief fear being that the painful throbbing of his heart would betray him.
But the good fortune that had attended him on the other side the river did not desert him now. The Senecas hovered about him only a minute or two and then moved away, this time taking a direction that led toward the camp-fire—an indication that they had given up the pursuit.
Pausing only long enough for them to pass beyond hearing, Fred resumed his flight, with the same care he had used from the first.
He was now more hopeful than ever, but almost instantly received another warning that it is never safe to shout until you are "out of the woods."
He judged he was fully two hundred yards from the camp-fire which he had left so hurriedly, when he found himself in such darkness that he once more stopped until he could gather some idea of his location and of the points of the compass.
Listening closely, he caught the gentle flow of the small waterfall and of the Susquehanna on his right, from which direction also came the occasional reports of guns and the shouts of Indians. This convinced him he was facing south, and that his back was turned toward his friends.
It was no pleasant discovery to find the same ominous sounds proceeding from his own side the river; but, having left them in such a situation, this alarming fact was scarcely noticed.