That was a query he feared to answer, but something down in his heart told him that a great calamity had occurred: that he was now parentless. Still, there was a faint hope. Jennie had escaped with life; then might not the others have fared equally as well?
Fortunately he had something to distract his thoughts, in a measure. Otherwise he would have gone mad. But now he must bear up for the sake of his sister—his loved one and her friends. They were in imminent peril, and upon his arms partly depended their hopes of preservation.
The groans of the dying wretches had ceased, and all was once more still in the forest. Even the insects had seemed to cease their humming, and the faint breeze to die utterly away. The stillness was awful—depressing in the extreme.
For despite this seeming peacefulness, they well knew that bloodthirsty and unscrupulous foes were busily compassing their destruction. They knew that some subtle plot was being concocted by the savages, who would be fairly wild with rage and thirst for revenge. This suspense was harder to bear than the deadliest strife would have been, for while they knew their peril was imminent, they knew not in which direction it would first appear, nor the shape it would assume.
But they had not long to wait for the knowledge. A faint rustling sound at some little distance first met their vigilant ears, although no human form could be seen. This for a time puzzled them, as the sound appeared confined to a circumscribed space, near the little knoll upon which the Indians had stood when the fatal volley was discharged at them.
Then this rustling ceased, and another sound took its place. Castor uttered a grunt of dismay, as though he comprehended the meaning of this. Wilson whispered:
"What is it, Tobe?"
"Wait an' you'll see soon a plenty. Cuss the pesky imps!" and the old scout fairly ground his teeth with intense ire.
And in the course of a few moments they did see, sure enough. A faint, flickering glow—not a blaze, at least visible to them—shone forth upon the knoll, only a few yards distant from its crest. At this moment, Stevens and Wilson divined the truth, as Castor had already done.
The Indians were building a fire!