“I guess you can go on with what you were saying. None of these fellows speaks English.”
“Here we are in the middle of them all,” said the young Virginian, his eyes going about the camp with its hundreds of prostrate and huddled forms, “and as we have no notion about what to-morrow is going to bring us, it would be best, I think, to begin counting our chances of getting away.”
“The only good chance is in General Jackson’s coming up with the army,” said Jack. “But,” and like Frank, he allowed his gaze to go about the sleeping camp, “I’ve heard of men’s escaping from Indian villages with as many chances against them as we have.”
“Who knows?” spoke Frank, hopefully. “We may be as lucky as they.”
“You never can tell what might turn up,” said Jack, his voice colored by the hope he caught in that of his comrade. “Let’s look into the prospects a little.”
Again there was a silence. The guards paced up and down with lagging steps, the sleepers were as motionless as logs; from the depths of the woods came the calls of night birds and the occasional howl of a timber wolf. The fires had grown a dull red; through the thick of the trees a crescent moon was sending pale trails of light.
“Just across from me,” said Frank, who faced the north, “is the sleeping place of one whom I take to be a chief. Maybe he’s the commander of the whole band. At any rate, all our things have been put in his charge, rifles, horses and all.”
“Huh!” said Jack, thoughtfully. “That’s interesting.” He seemed to consider the proposition for a moment, then added: “But, tied up as we are here, I don’t see what good it will do us.”
“Suppose we were not tied up,” said Frank.
Jack caught at something in the tone which caused a thrill to shoot through him.