"They walk back together to the soldiers, and now there is no noise of footsteps."
"I take it that they're waiting for something."
"Aye, Black Rifle. They are waiting in the hope that the fog will rise. You know how suddenly a fog can lift and leave everything bright and clear."
"And they would see us at once. They'll be fairly on top of us."
"So they would be, if the fog should go quickly away."
"And do you think it will?" asked Black Rifle in alarm.
Tayoga laughed under his breath.
"I do not," he replied confidently. "There is no wind to take it away. The great bank of mist and vapor will be heavy upon the ground and will increase in thickness. It would not be wise for us to move, because there may be ears among them as keen as ours, and they might hear us. Then blinded by the fog we might walk directly into the hands of prowling warriors. Although we are not many yards from them we are safest where we are, motionless and still."
Black Rifle also lay down and put his ear to the earth.
"I hear very well myself, although not as well as you, Tayoga," he whispered, "and I want to notice what they're doing as far as I can. I make out the sound of a lot of footsteps, but I can't tell what they mean."