“This certainly seems like a lot of foolishness,” said John, at last impatiently.
“But seeming and being are two altogether different things,” Ree answered. “Still, it’s not very comfortable or enjoyable, I’ll admit. But what else can we be doing?”
“Some one’s coming!” exclaimed John in an undertone, instantly changing the trend of both his own thoughts and Ree’s. He was standing out where he could command a view of the river, while Kingdom sat in the doorway.
Quietly and with an appearance of unconcern Ree rose and went forward. Looking in the direction John in a whisper indicated, he saw three half-naked savages two hundred yards or more up the stream. They were hastily dragging a canoe out of the water and up onto the bank opposite that on which the cabin stood.
“Holler at them! Sing out something!” John urged, looking toward the Indians again himself. Not to attract their notice he had at first pretended he did not see them. “Blest if I know any of them!” he added, looking more closely.
Already the redskins were well up on the river bank and two of them had lifted the canoe up to their shoulders.
“I can’t make out why they are leaving the water in that way,” Ree answered. “Maybe we can find out. Ho, there! Howdy, brothers!”
Kingdom’s voice was clear and strong. There could be no doubt of the Indians having heard him, but the only effect of his words, apparently, was to send them hurrying into the woods the faster and in another second they had disappeared from sight.
“Umph!” Kingdom ejaculated wonderingly, “I believe they’re afraid of you, John,—afraid to sail down past us! But you can’t tell much about it, either. It may be they thought they’d find us gone and were taken by surprise to find out otherwise.”
“Well, it shows one thing, we never saw such a queer piece of business before, and it simply proves that there’s something wrong and most likely it’s just what Fishing Bird told us,” John answered, pretty soberly.