“Thur havin’ a little muss thar, cunnel. Bully for us!”
Boone made no answer, but kept on his course till they had left the sounds of conflict far to the rear, when he turned sharp to the north, motioning the rest to keep behind him.
Now at last the twilight began to fade.
As the twilight faded, the sounds of conflict grew less and less frequent. Only an occasional rifle-shot rung out at intervals; but every one came closer and closer as they advanced.
At last it was dark.
Then the veteran borderer stopped and allowed his two companions to come up alongside of him, when a short whispered conversation took place.
So cautious were all of being overheard that they were obliged to put their lips to each other’s ears to tell and hear, and the sharpest scout might have lain twenty feet off without hearing a sound.
“We are close to the imps,” said Boone; “and the fort gate lies right in front of us. We must keep close together now.”
“Do you think they know we are around?” said Ruby.
“The Indians must,” said the borderer. “The only trouble is that the people inside don’t.”