The following day they again decided to separate—Running Fox to make a half circle toward the east, while Spotted Deer made a similar detour toward the west. They agreed to meet at dark at a great spire-shaped rock on the summit of a low hill directly ahead of them.
“No matter what you see, come back when it gets dark,” said Running Fox,
“I will do as you tell me,” agreed Spotted Deer.
Running Fox made his way toward a ridge of hills less than a half day’s journey to the eastward. He had traveled about two-thirds of the distance when he suddenly came upon the remains of a small fire. It had been made between two rocks, and cleverly concealed by a screen of brush. A few embers still glowed from the ashes, and it was evident that whoever had camped there had only recently departed. Running Fox circled carefully about the spot, trying to learn the identity of the firemaker. He found some tracks leading toward the east. However, he was only able to follow them a short distance, as the country was rough and rocky, and they soon disappeared. Running Fox believed that the crafty scout had purposely left a plain trail for a short distance to baffle his foes. The Delaware felt quite sure that farther on the unknown traveler had turned in another direction.
“I must watch out for that person,” Running Fox told himself.
He reached the ridge of hills a short time afterward, and looked anxiously toward the north for evidence of the Mohawk camp. The sky was clear and cloudless, however, and there was no trace of smoke. Running Fox felt troubled. He feared that the unexpected appearance of the Shawnees threatened the success of his expedition. Still he had no thought of turning back. Having made his boast to his father he determined to make it good, or sacrifice his life in the attempt.
The day was well advanced, and Running Fox had about decided to leave the ridge and return to Spotted Deer, when he suddenly discovered a heavy column of smoke rising above the tree-tops a short distance south of him. It suggested many interesting possibilities, and Running Fox studied it closely. For a long time it puzzled him. He could scarcely believe that it came from the Mohawk camp. In the first place he felt sure that the camp was farther from the lake. Besides, there was but one dense column of smoke, while smoke from a village usually rose in several thin columns, or hovered above the camp in light hazy clouds. Running Fox decided, therefore, that the smoke which he saw must be a signal. The possibility quickened his interest. Then the smoke column began to waver and break. In a few moments he saw it separate into a number of puffs or clouds. They followed one another at short intervals, and Running Fox became convinced that some one was sending a message. He would have given much to have been able to read it. He searched the sky in all directions, hoping to see an answer but none appeared.
“I believe some one is talking to the Mohawk camp,” said Running Fox.
The Delaware realized that if his guess was true it was quite probable that the signal would go unanswered. He believed that it would be read by sharp-eyed sentinels who had been stationed on the high places to watch for it, but he felt sure that no tell-tale spiral of smoke would be permitted to betray the location of the village. If an answer were sent, Running Fox believed it would appear somewhere far away from the camp. Still, the mere sight of the signal filled him with hope, for he told himself that the Mohawk village was surely somewhere within sight. He waited until the smoke faded from the sky, and then as he saw nothing to indicate that the signal would be answered he hurried away to meet Spotted Deer.
Darkness had already fallen when Running Fox approached the rock where he was to meet his friend. This time, however, his signal brought an immediate response, for Spotted Deer was waiting for him.