The situation into which they had entered was one of extreme danger, but their surprising skill as trailers helped them greatly. The bank at this point was about eight feet high, with rather a sharp slope, covered with a dense growth of bushes, in which their figures were well hidden, but they were so near now to the main camp that its luminous glow passed over their heads, and lay in a broad band of light on the yellow surface of the river. A canoe put out from the southern shore, and was paddled by two warriors to the northern bank. Evidently there was constant communication between the two forces.
From the bank above them came the steady drone of the scalp song, and they heard the measured beat of the dance. Voices, too, came to them as they advanced a little farther, and once Henry distinguished that of Blackstaffe, although he was not able to understand the words. The light from the great fire was steadily growing stronger on the river and it would be a peril, disclosing their movements, if they took a canoe. From the southern forest came the cries of wolves and owls which were the signals of the Indians to one another, and Henry felt sure they were talking of the five. He was thoroughly convinced now that their trail had been discovered, and that the warriors, sure they were in the ring, were seeking to draw in the steel girdle enclosing them. And unless the canoe was secured quickly it was likely they would succeed. The two paused, their minds in a state of painful indecision.
“What do you think, Henry?” whispered the shiftless one.
“Nothing that amounts to anything.”
“When you don’t know what to do the best thing to do is to do nothin’. ’Spose we jest wait a while. We’re well kivered here, an’ they’d never think o’ lookin’ so close by fur us, anyway. Besides, hev you noticed, Henry, that it’s growin’ a lot darker? ’Tain’t goin’ to rain, but the moon an’ all the stars are goin’ away, fur a rest, I s’pose, so they kin shine all the brighter tomorrow night.”
“It’s so, Sol, and a good heavy blanket of darkness will help us a lot.”
They lay perfectly still and waited with all the patience of those who know they must be patient to live. A full hour passed, and the welcome darkness increased, the heavens turning into a solid canopy, black and vast. The light from the great campfire sank, and its luminous glow no longer appeared on the river. The stream itself showed but faintly yellow under the darkness. Henry’s heart began to beat high. Nature, as it so often did, was coming to their help. The droning song of the scalp dance had ceased and with it the voices of the warriors talking. No sound came from the river, save the soft swish of the flowing waters, and now and then a gurgle and a splash, when some huge catfish raised part of his body above the surface, and then let it fall back again.
Another canoe came presently from the northern shore. Henry and Shif’less Sol, although they could not see it at first, knew it had started, because their keen ears caught the plash of the paddles.
“It’s a big one, Henry,” whispered Shif’less Sol. “How many paddles do you make out by the sound?”
“Six. Is that your count, too?”