Minute by minute went by; then an hour passed, but still the Creeks did not renew the attack.
“They don’t seem to be in any hurry about it, at any rate,” said Frank. All three of the youths were leaning over the edge of the depression looking along the slope at the Indians in the distance.
“No,” said Jack. “A half dozen, or so, in killed and wounded is a staggerer to them. They’ll not budge before night, you’ll see that.”
After a time they saw the savages subside and go into camp; however, each band kept its place; the ring about the knoll was preserved; and red skinned sentinels were observed here and there, their keen eyes fixed upon the apex where the boys lay.
“There’ll not be much that’ll escape them,” said Jack. “Injuns have as much patience as a hill-cat at a water hole.”
The afternoon wore away; then the sun began to lower behind the range of waving tree tops and the long shadows began to trail upon the slopes of the knoll. But the Creeks made no sign; craftily they assumed carelessness, lolling about in groups, their horses picketed at some little distances.
“They think to fool us,” said Jack. “It’s their idea not to stir until their movements are covered by darkness; and in that way, so they imagine, they’ll lure us into thinking they are not going to move at all.”
Slowly the shadows thickened; twilight passed and night settled upon the wilds. There were countless stars in the sky; but they seemed very far off and their glimmering cast no light; the moon would not show itself for some hours.
“Now!” said Jack Davis. “If we are going to make the attempt, now is the time. Are you willing, Frank?”
“I’ll follow right after you wherever you go,” replied the young Virginian.