"What the devil do you mean?—if I see these things!"
Carl turned on his side, smiled intelligently, and, beckoning the captain to bring his ear close, put his lips to it, covered them with his hand, with an air of secrecy, and whispered hoarsely,—
"Landmarks!"
"Ah! well!" said Lysander, suffering him to proceed.
Carl crept slowly, raising his head at every moment to observe. The bayonet came behind; the captain continued at his side. "The further I take these willains from the others, the petter," thought he. At length he came in view of the high ledge upon which Penn had discovered Cudjo at his idolatrous devotions, on the night of the fire. The moon was getting behind the mountain, and there were dark shadows beneath this ledge. Though he should travel a mile, he might not find a more suitable spot to locate his fictitious cave. He hesitated; considered well; then gently tapped Lysander's arm.
"You see vair the rock comes down? And some pushes just under it? Vell, the cave is pehind the pushes, ven you find it!" Which was indeed true.
Lysander crept a few paces nearer, stealthily, flat on his belly, with his head slightly elevated, like a dark reptile gliding over the moonlit ground.
"Now is my time!" thought Carl. His heart beat violently. He raised himself on his knees, preparing to spring. Lysander was at least ten feet in advance of him, and he thought he would risk the pistol. "I run—he fires—he vill miss me—I shall get avay." But the corporal? Just then he felt a piercing pressure in his side. It was the corporal, nudging him with the bayonet to make him lie down.
"I vas shust going a little nearer."
The corporal seemed satisfied with the explanation; but, as the boy advanced on his hands and knees, he advanced close behind him,—holding the bayoneted gun ready for a thrust.