“Hist!” replied Custa, “there are ears in the forest. Look at the stricken pine—he has no tongue—he is silent as the tall tree of the forest that rocks the hummingbird to rest, and sings no lullaby that can wake the echoes.”
“If he ain’t got a tongue, and a locrum is inconvenient to him,” continued Harvey, smiling, “he has got eyes—look, he has found something.”
Harrod was on the other side of the stream near the fire, and when they joined him they found that he had discovered the bones and some small parts of the cow, which had been slaughtered and in part devoured. The horse was also immediately afterwards found, just behind the bushes, cropping some grass, and so hoppled that it could not go far away.
“Ugh!” told Custaloga, in a low whisper.
“This is the queerest start I ever saw. I guess we’ve got an ounce of dust in our eyes, or we can’t see for the dark. I suspect they are just hid close by.”
The Silent Hunter shook his head.
“Water is soft, and earth is hard; but the earth leaves a mark and water shows no trail.”
“That’s it,” said Harvey; “they had canoes—by gum, they must be in force. They’ve slummucked the pigs and the cow-beef, and left no mark.”
“In the morning we will rub our eyes and see clear,” replied Custa; “they have put the plunder and prisoners in the canoes, and have walked. But they are not coons: they will not deceive a Wyandot. In the morning we will find their trail.”
“I suppose you are about right,” said Harvey, “and that we’re bound to wait. But this is a hottish place for a camp, I conclude, Custa. My scalp kind of crawls at the idea of sleeping here.”