Jack Davis was greatly interested in the movements of the parties who had camped on and moved across their track.
“Every one of them is headed for the settlements,” said he. “There must be thousands of them.”
However, they knew that the uprising was expected, and felt that the military authorities and backwoodsmen were alert; so they concerned themselves with the object of their expedition alone. The triple oaks were once more sighted; unmolested this time, they studied the chart upon the deerskin scroll; one by one they located the landmarks set down, blazed trees with their hatchets and explored. The result of five days’ work was that the old grant was shown to be a splendidly located one, having every natural advantage.
“It’s worth thousands,” said Jack, who had a fairly keen eye for such things. “If the Injuns are ever brought to see things in the right light, your father has a fortune here.”
With this fact greatly comforting him, Frank was willing to turn once more toward the settlements; so after one night more in the river bank camp, they took to the saddle and headed for the Tennessee line. After the first day, unmistakable signs of Indians compelled them to change their course somewhat; the twilight of the second day found them in the forest amid a perfect maze of fresh trails.
“They seem to be all around us,” said Jack, as they brought up at last, and sat their horses looking about them.
And he was right; for as the twilight deepened into dusk, and dusk into night, they saw the red twinkle of Creek camp-fires on every hand.
CHAPTER VII
THE ONSLAUGHT AT FORT MIMS
For a time the two white boys and the young Cherokee hunter gazed in silence at the sparkle of the Creek camp-fires; the woods seemed studded with them; hundreds of savages must have been camped within a circle of a half mile.
“It’s almost a miracle how we got into the midst of them like this without seeing any of them, or their seeing us,” said Frank Lawrence.