"We would have heard the noise of a squabble if he had been captured, an' I have stood watch ever since he left," Sergeant Corney said, decidedly.
"Can they be followin' our trail in the darkness?" I cried, and my companion replied, grimly, drawing his rifle nearer to him:
"It makes no difference to us, lad, why or how they are comin'. The question is whether, in case they find this place, we shall fight to the death or submit without resistance."
It was a question I could not answer. I knew full well that we could not hope to hold the cave any considerable length of time, and that if, during the fight, we killed any of the villains, our end at the stake would come before morning, even though Thayendanega himself should do all he might to prevent it.
I remained silent, the Indians approaching nearer and nearer each instant, and, when they were half-way up the hill, within perhaps thirty yards of the mouth of the cave, the sergeant said, as if speaking to himself:
"All we can hope for, if we should put up a fight, is to die with weapons in our hands, for death in some form would come to us within a few hours. While there's life there's a chance."
"Meanin' that we had best give ourselves up?" I asked, in alarm. "Ay, lad, that is my idee, unless you can show me something better."
There was little time for reflection. Already were the Indians so near that I fancied I could hear them breathing. I knew that the cave had no other outlet than this one at which we crouched, but also that two determined men might hold half an hundred in check as long as their ammunition lasted--but then?
The foremost of the red-skinned snakes were within a dozen feet of us when I whispered, with tremulous voice:
"It shall be as you say, sergeant!"