“In course you would. An’ when I know that thar are Injins all around us, an’ that they are takin’ mighty good care to keep themselves out of sight, I tell myself that they’ll bar watchin’. When I see their trail, an’ find out that thar are nigh onto three hundred braves in the party, an’ that they haint got no women or plunder with ’em, I know that they are on the war-path. An’ when they foller us fur two hul days, an’ their spies watch us every night while we are makin’ our camp—like that varlet over thar is watchin’ us now—I know that they are arter us an’ nobody else. The signs are jest as plain to me as the signs of a thunder storm are to you.”
“Is there some one watching us now?” asked Julian, in great excitement.
“Sartin thar is. I’ve seed that copper-colored face of his’n peepin’ over that rock ever since we’ve been here. If he was within good pluggin’ distance all the news he would carry back to his friends wouldn’t do ’em much good, I reckon.”
As the trapper spoke he pointed toward the opposite side of the gorge. Julian looked in the direction indicated, closely scrutinizing every rock and tree within the range of his vision, but nothing in the shape of an Indian’s head could he see. His eyes were not as sharp as those of the guide.
“Never mind,” said Silas, “you’ll see plenty of ’em afore mornin’, an’ they’ll be closer to you than you’ll care to have ’em. But you needn’t be any ways oneasy. They won’t hurt you. It’s white men that you’ve got to look out fur.”
“White men?” echoed Julian.
“Sartin. Thar’s two persons in the world—an’ I can lay my hand on one of ’em in less’n five minutes—who would be willin’ to give something nice if they could get hold of you. I know a heap more about you than you think I do.”
“You have hinted something like this before, Silas, and I don’t know what you mean. I wish you would explain yourself.”
“I hain’t got no time now,” replied the guide, shouldering his rifle and walking briskly up the road. “Keep your eyes open, an’ don’t go out of the camp till I get back. Don’t forget what I told you about them wagons nuther.”
The trapper quickly disappeared around a bend in the road, and Julian once more directed his gaze across the gully and tried in vain to discover the hiding-place of the spy. He began to feel timid now that he was alone. The thought that there were hostile Indians all around him, and that one of their number was concealed almost within rifle-shot of him, watching every move he made, was by no means an agreeable one. His first impulse was to put spurs to his horse and make the best of his way back to the train; and he probably would have done so had he not at that moment become aware that the train was coming to him. He heard the rumbling of the wheels and the voices of teamsters below him, and the familiar sounds brought his courage back to him again. He remained at his post until the foremost wagons came in sight, and then proceeded to carry out the instructions Silas had given him.