"It is bad," Running Fox said, soberly. "The Mohawks have circled around us. Pretty soon they will close in. Then we must watch out."
It was evident that the crafty Mohawks had separated and surrounded the swamp. There seemed little doubt that they would eventually advance from all sides and attempt to drive their enemies from cover. It was a favorite and successful method of securing game, and the Delawares realized that it would be hard to escape from the trap. They listened anxiously to learn if their fears were true. It was not long before they were convinced. The solemn warning of the great-horned owl sounded from the two remaining sides of the swamp. The circle was completed. The Mohawks were ready to advance.
"Lie close, perhaps they will not find us," said Running Fox.
It was a long time before they heard anything to rouse their suspicions. Then they heard soft, guarded signals passing through the night, and they knew that the Mohawks had entered the swamp. They strained their ears to detect the stealthy approach of their foes. Darkness had settled down, and they realized that it would be impossible for the Mohawks to find them unless they blundered directly upon their shelter.
"If they come upon us we must fight them back, and try to get away," said Running Fox.
A few moments afterward they heard a sharp crackling of brush close by. They smiled grimly as they realized that one of the scouts had stumbled into a tangle of dead tree tops. He soon extricated himself, and then they heard nothing more of him. They knew, however, that at any moment he might discover their hiding place. The thought kept them alert. Then, as he failed to find them, they took hope.
"He has passed—it is good," whispered Dancing Owl.
"Sh!" cautioned Running Fox.
He feared that the cunning Mohawk might be listening within bow-length of them. Then they heard the call of the horned owl from the border of the swamp. In a few moments it was answered by one of the scouts. The Delawares felt sure that the main company of their foes was still lurking along the edge of the swamp. The thought alarmed them. They believed that the Mohawks planned to hold them in their hiding place until the night passed. The possibility made escape seem hopeless. Convinced that daylight would make it easy for the Mohawks to find them, they feared that they would soon be overcome and annihilated. The idea startled them. Having survived the perils of their expedition against the Shawnees, they were overwhelmed by the sudden disaster which had overtaken them almost within sight of their village. In the meantime the Mohawks had become quiet, and it was evident that they had abandoned the search and were waiting for the darkness to pass.
"It is bad," said Crooked Foot. "When it gets light, they will come in here and kill us."