"What other?" Pearson, asked.
Harold gave briefly an account of the reason which had brought them to the spot and of the object they had in view.
"You can count me in," Pearson said. "There's just a chance that Nelly Welch may be in their hands still; and in any case I'm longing to draw a bead on some of the varmints to pay 'em for this," and he looked round him, "and a hundred other massacres round this frontier."
"I'm glad to hear ye say so," Peter replied. "I expected as much of ye, Jack. I don't know much of this country, having only hunted here for a few weeks with a party of Delawares twenty year afore the Iroquois moved so far west."
"I know pretty nigh every foot of it," Jack Pearson said. "When the Iroquois were quiet I used to do a deal of hunting in their country. It are good country for game."
"Well! shall we set out at once?" Harold asked, impatient to be off.
"We can't move to-night," Pearson answered; and Harold saw that Peter and the Indians agreed with him.
"Why not?" he asked. "Every hour is of importance."
"That's so," Peter said, "but there's no going out on the lake to-night. In half an hour we'll have our first snowstorm, and by morning it will be two foot deep."
Harold turned his eyes toward the lake and saw what his companions had noticed long before. The sky was overcast and a thick bank of hidden clouds was rolling up across the lake, and the thick mist seemed to hang between the clouds and the water.