“Perhaps they did not go to the right place.”
“Oh, yes, they did,” said Morgan, seriously, “because two men told me about finding the marks close beside the big tree where we had our fight.”
“Marks?” I said.
“Yes; you know. Well, they are keeping a good look-out, spread all round, and keeping touch with each other. So you may be sure that the enemy is not far off, and we expect them down upon us before long.”
The thought of all this made the evening look gloomy and strange, though it was a glorious sunset, for the clouds that gathered in the west were to me like the smoke of burning houses touched with fire, and the deep rich red glow like blood. And as I watched the changes, it seemed that the softened reflections had turned into one fierce fiery glow that told of the destruction of the fort and the houses of the settlement, till, as it all died out, the light growing paler and paler, there was nothing at last but the cold grey ashes to tell of where the houses had been.
Chapter Forty One.
I quite started as a hand was laid upon my shoulder.
“Thinking, George?” said my father. I told him I had been watching the sunset. Shame kept me from saying more.