"Who can it be?" Weston asked. "What is the meaning of that second shot, and the scream of pain? There's something wrong over there, that's quite evident."
"Suppose we cross over and investigate," Reynolds suggested. "It may have been a stray shot which went through my hat. But, hello! who's that?"
"Where?" Weston asked.
"Don't you see him?" and Reynolds pointed to his left. "Look, he is moving along the top of the hill toward where we heard the first shot."
The form of a man could be seen, gliding swiftly and cautiously forward, carrying a rifle. Only brief glimpses could be obtained of him as he emerged now and then from behind rocks and clumps of stunted trees, so it was impossible to make out whether he was a white man or an Indian. At length he vanished entirely for several minutes, while the curious and anxious watchers waited for him to reappear.
It seemed to them much longer than it really was before they saw him again, and this time he was standing upon a huge rock motioning with his arms.
"Why, it's Sconda!" Weston exclaimed in amazement. "What does he want?" he asked, turning to Natsu, who all the time had remained perfectly silent.
"'Come quick,' Sconda say," was the reply.
"Ask him what is the matter," Weston ordered.
This Natsu at once did, but all the answer he received was the request to hurry.