Captain Sherwood turned away sick at heart, and darted down the stairs back to his men.
“The villains have been here,” said he, “and sacked the house. The old man lies dead upon the floor; the rest of the family were probably taken prisoners. Let War-Cloud hunt out their trail, for we must shoot every man of this gang.”
The soldiers were furious at this new outrage, and manifested their willingness to follow the Tory League to the end of the earth, for vengeance. In a few moments War-Cloud—the scout—gave the signal that he had found the trail, and the company started off in pursuit. Every foot of the ground was familiar to the scout, and he had no difficulty in leading the way.
All night long they hurried on in pursuit, over hills and valleys, through woods, and across plains. The trees, clad in their autumnal garb, looked like iron warriors in the moonlight, and every now and then, as a slight wind whirled the leaves to the ground, the troops would stop and listen for their enemy.
The night wore on until the moon having completed her course, left the land in darkness—but darkness not long to last, for soon the orient heralded the approach of dawning day.
As the eastern horizon began to show these signs, the soldiers, being fatigued, halted upon the summit of a high hill. Their tramp had been a long one, but still there were no signs of the Tory League save their trail, which they seemed to have taken no pains to conceal. The League had undoubtedly got a good start and were improving their advantage.
Captain Sherwood and War-Cloud withdrew a short distance from the troops, to a cliff that jutted out from the general line of the mountain. Here they could command a view of an entire valley to the distance of many miles. It was quite level and presented a beautiful scene. The surface was covered with a carpet of bright green, enameled by flowers that gleamed like many-colored gems, and here and there the willow mingled its foliage in soft shady groves, forming inviting retreats. A stream, like a silver serpent, bisected the valley—not running in a straight course, but in luxuriant windings, as though it loved to tarry in the midst of the bright scene.
War-Cloud, after scanning the whole plain before him for some time, turned to the captain with delight.
“Look, chief!” said he, pointing to that part of the valley almost below them. “See! white and red devils right there.”
Yes, there was the Tory League sure enough, quietly seated upon the ground, enjoying their morning meal in full sight of the captain.