Curving around a small hill, Willet rose to his feet and the others, with intense relief, did likewise. Robert's and Grosvenor's joints were young and elastic, and the stiffness quickly left them, but both had done enough creeping and crawling for one night. All stood listening for a minute or two. They heard no more shots fired at the rocks, but the two owls began to call again to each other.
"Do you understand them, Tayoga?" asked Willet.
"They talk the Huron language," replied the Onondaga, in his precise fashion, "that is, their signals are those used by the Hurons. They are asking each other what has happened at the rocks, and neither can tell. Their expression is that of doubt, impatience and worry. They say to each other: 'Those whom we believed we held in a trap may have broken out of it. It will take time to see and also much peril if they are still in the trap, because they can use their rifles well.' We annoy them much, Great Bear."
The big hunter chuckled.
"I don't mind that," he said. "Their worries are not my worries. Ah, there they go again! What are they saying now, Tayoga?"
"Their tone grows more anxious. You can tell what they feel by the expression of the owl. Their fear that we may have stolen out of the trap is increasing, but they cannot know unless they go and see, and then they may be creeping into the muzzles of our rifles. It is a difficult problem that we have given them to solve, Great Bear."
"We'll leave it for 'em, lads. Now that we're on our feet we'll go at speed."
They walked very rapidly, but they stopped when they heard once more the faint cries of the owls, now almost lost in the distance. Tayoga interpreted them.
"They are cries of anger," he said. "They have discovered that we are not in the rocks, and now they will look around for our trail, which will be hard to find in the darkness of the night."
"And the thing for us to do is to keep on toward the south as hard as we can."