“What is it?” inquired Spotted Deer.
“Well, these people may he Oneidas or Onondagas,” said Running Fox. “Perhaps they have come here to talk with their brothers, the Mohawks. Perhaps they do not know that the Mohawks are on the war-trail. Perhaps they have not seen any enemies on their journey. Well, if this water is near the Mohawk village, why did these people stop here? If they are the same people you saw, then they must have arrived here before the last sun appeared. Why did they wait here? If they had gone on they would be pretty close to the Mohawk camp by now.”
“What you say is true,” replied Spotted Deer. “But I will tell you how it might be. I do not believe these people are Mohawks. I believe I was wrong about that. I believe that they are Oneidas or Onondagas. Perhaps they are Cayugas or Senecas from far away toward the place Where-The-Sun-Goes-To-Sleep. Well, perhaps they have made a long journey. Perhaps they want to rest. Perhaps the Mohawks do not know they are here. Then they must wait. Yes, they must send scouts to tell the Mohawks that they are coming to see them. Then the Mohawks will get ready a big feast. It is the proper way to do. I believe that is why we have found them here.”
“Well, I see that it may be as you say,” said Running Fox. “But we will not find out about it by sitting here and talking. We see a fire. Well, we must creep up close, and find out who made it.”
“I am ready,” declared Spotted Deer.
They rose and began a daring advance along the edge of the lake. They moved with great caution, stopping frequently to listen for a warning of danger. However, the fire was a considerable distance ahead of them, and they believed that they would be comparatively safe until they got within bow-shot of it. Then they were startled by a loud splash in the river.
“What was that?” Spotted Deer whispered, anxiously.
“Sh,” cautioned Running Fox.
They listened many moments but the silence was unbroken.
“Perhaps it was some one paddling a canoe,” said Spotted Deer.