A half dozen bark crafts were in a very few moments being driven up and across the stream. The twilight was long and the July day still persisted, but nothing of the missing ones was to be seen. Long and loud the men in the canoes shouted; but no sound came in answer. Eph Taylor, from the craft in which were also Sandy and Oliver, spied something under a bank.
“A canoe!” he cried.
In a few moments the other searchers were at their sides; all made for the bank. It was the canoe used by the girls!
“Take care!” warned Boone. “Don’t anybody get ashore!”
From his own canoe the backwoodsman scanned the bank. The daylight was still strong enough for him to see the imprint of the moccasined feet in the soft ooze.
“Injuns!” said Boone.
A murmur went up from the settlers; the import of the signs was plain.
“They have made off into the woods!” cried one of the men, excitedly. “We must not waste a minute; we must take the trail at once!”
Boone pointed grimly at the sun, which was now well down upon the horizon line.
“In a quarter of an hour it will be dark,” he said. “And no trailer that ever stepped can follow an Injun track by torch-light. We’ll have to wait for morning.”