It was still dark when a low growl from the dog made Bob start up wide awake. He could see Sicum by the light of the fire, which still burned, standing a few feet away.
“What is it, boy?” he whispered.
The dog gave another low growl and Bob could see that the hair on his back was bristled. Just then Kernertok, who was on the same side of the canoe, awoke.
“Sicum hears something,” Bob whispered.
The dog paced back and forth, giving vent to low rumbling growls from time to time.
“White boy stay here, watch; Injun go see,” Kernertok whispered, and in another minute without making the slightest sound he was gone.
“Here Sicum,” Bob ordered in a low whisper.
The dog somewhat reluctantly came to his side.
“You stay right here. Remember what happened the last time you left camp alone.”
Bob strained his ears to listen, but except for the roaring of the water as it rushed over the falls, he could hear nothing. He had no way of telling the time, but it seemed to him a long time since the Indian had left, when he noticed that the east was beginning to lighten.