“Amen to that!”
After another silence he asked:
“You ’low she’s with daddy an’ mammy?”
“I do.”
“That’s mighty comfortin’ to figger on,” he slowly mused. “Much like a younker gittin’ mighty tired an’ goin’ back home to rest. Daddy an’ mammy will do a heap to make it up to her for what she had to go through. Yes, I can count on ’em, even if the Almighty happened to be too busy to notice her when she first crossed the border.”
Dear lad! He meant no irreverence.
The night was calm and sounds carried easily. We had passed beyond where we could hear the men singing and merry-making in camp, but the uneasy movements of a turkey and the stealthy retreat of a deer seemed very close at hand. The soft pad-pad of a woods cat approached within a few feet before the creature caught the scent, and the retreat was marked by a series of crashings through the undergrowth.
After a while we rose and continued up the river.
“No Injuns along here,” murmured Cousin.
We reached Old Town Creek and crossed it without discovering any signs of the enemy; nor were we looking for anything more serious than a stray scout or two. We went nearly two miles above the creek and turned back after deciding we would separate at the creek, he taking the hills route and I following the river. We reached the creek and he was about to leave me when we both heard a new note, a splashing noise, very faint. Our hands met in a mutual desire to grab an arm and enforce attention.