“Nothing at all.”
“Try again, sir.”
Both Perry and Cyril looked along the path, tracing it faintly in the coming night for some distance along, beyond where the great fall came thundering down.
“I can’t see anything,” said Perry.
“Nor I,” said Cyril. “Yes, I can. There’s something that looks like shadows moving.”
“Steady, sir; don’t seem as if you were noticing it, but notice it all the same. It struck me as strange ten minutes ago, but I thought it was fancy. But you see it, sir, and it must be right. Now then, sir, what do you make that to be?”
“Indians,” said Cyril promptly.
“That’s right, sir—what I thought; and they’re watching us, and after no good.”
“What! Do you think they are hanging round the camp to try to steal?”
“Don’t know, sir,” said John Manning gruffly. “I hope that’s the worst.”