“Much war,” said Running Elk, as they made away from the vicinity of the savage camp. “Creeks and Shawnee burn blockhouse and white face tepees.”
“Do you think they’ll start soon?” asked Jack.
“No.” The Cherokee hunter shook his head. “Not yet. After the snow’s gone from hills. Tribes all join together. Heap fight.”
“That sounds like the facts,” nodded the young borderer to Frank. “It’ll take some time for Tecumseh to get the tribes together for the blow—if he can do it at all.”
“Next spring, then, a big outbreak may be expected?” said Frank.
“Maybe not so soon. But it will come, sooner or later, mark my words. The Injuns are about ripe for it.”
That night they were unable to light a fire because of the closeness of the Indian bands; and the greater part of the next day they were forced to remain in hiding because of the parties of savages constantly encountered. This went on for some days; they were unable to cook their food the greater part of the time, and had little real rest, for it was necessary to guard against surprise every moment.
After about a week of this sort of thing, Jack, one morning, said to Frank:
“It doesn’t seem as though we were going to locate your father’s land grant in a hurry, does it?”
Frank shook his head.