“Wake, Fleet Foot!”—The Indian name of his white friend.—“Up! Up! Winnemac and heap many braves come—come soon.”
Douglas threw off his blanket, and, leaping to his feet, cried excitedly:
“Did you say the Indians are coming, Bright Wing?”
“Ugh!” grunted the imperturbable Wyandot. “Come quick soon—sight many.”
“You mean they’re almost upon us?”
“Ugh!”
“How did you learn the fact?”
“Bright Wing go to Prophet’s Town—learn big heap.”
Duke now dashed into the circle of light and out again, barking furiously. His hoarse voice wakened Farley and his messmates. They stumbled to their feet, sleepily rubbing their eyes.