That these were Indians there could be no doubt, and the conclusion was inevitable that they had seen him come out and had allowed him to pass by them without molestation.
Being now between him and the shelter, his return was cut off, and no matter what important discoveries he might make, he had no means of telling them to his friends.
"I might have knowed dere would be some goings on like dis," he said, with a throb of alarm. "De best thing I kin do is to strike out for Stroudsburg alone, widout waitin' for de folks."
Though he might have been justified in this course, yet his conscience would not permit it, and he started again, with the purpose of passing around to the other side of the ravine, and making a closer reconnoissance of the spot where he was certain of finding enemies.
This required a long detour, and a full half-hour passed before he got across the short ravine and began climbing up the other side, near where the Indians were known to be only a short time before.
As might have been anticipated, he went wrong, and got into the worst trouble of his life.
He had seen nothing more of the Senecas, but several faint whistles he recognized as signals passing between them, and he should have understood, from what had already taken place, that his movements were watched by the wary foe.
He was climbing a narrow passage, and was, perhaps, a dozen feet above the bottom of the ravine, when, to his dismay, a sinewy warrior sprang up in front of him, as though leaping out of the ground itself, and with tomahawk raised and a guttural exclamation, made for him.
The assault was so sudden that Gimp had no time to use his rifle, but he was not taken altogether at fault. Dropping the weapon, he recoiled a step or two and escaped the implement as it came down with a vicious whiz.
Before the warrior could recover or retreat, the African threw both arms about him, and, lifting him as though he were an infant, flung him headlong into the ravine below.