Without pausing longer, we again hurried onwards in the direction of our friends.
Further on we perceived some men on horseback. Two there appeared to be; but in the darkness we were not certain, as their forms were scarce distinguishable.
They appeared to retreat as we approached, gliding off, like ghosts, among the trees.
No doubt these were they who had fired the shots. They were just in the direction whence the reports had come, and at the proper distance.
Were they Indians or whites? Hoping they were our friends, risking the chances of their being our foes, Old Hickman hailed them.
We paused to listen. There was no reply, not even an exclamation from either. We could hear, by the hoof-strokes of their horses, that they were hurrying off in a direction altogether different from either our party or the camp.
There was something mysterious in the behaviour of these horsemen. For what purpose had they fired their guns? If to signal the camp, why had they retreated from us, as we came from it? Why, moreover, had they gone off in a direction that did not lead to it? for its position was now known to them by the noise of the alarm they had themselves occasioned. To me their behaviour was inexplicable. Hickman appeared to have found some clue to it, and the knowledge seemed to have a angular effect upon him. He exhibited signs of surprise, mingled with strong feelings of indignation.
“Devil swamp ’em! the wuthless skunks, if’t are them, an’ I’m good as sure it are. I can’t a be mistaken in the crack o’ them two guns. What say ye, Jim Weatherford? D’ye recognise ’em?”
“I war thinkin’ I’d heern them afore somewhars, but I can’t ’zactly tell whar—stay; one on ’em’s precious like the ring o’ Ned Spence’s rifle.”
“Preecious like—it are the same; and t’other’s Bill Williams’s. What on airth kin the two be arter? We left ’em long wi’ the rest, and hyar they are now—I’m sartint it’s them, gallivantin’ about through the woods, an’ firin’ off their guns to spoil everything we’ve done. They’ve sot the Indyuns off to a sartinty. Devil swamp ’em both!—what kin they be arter?—some hellnifferous game, I ’spect! By the tarnal catawampus, I’ll make both on ’em pay for this when we git thegither! Come along, quick, fellers! Let’s git the party up, or we’ll be too late. Them Indyuns’ll make track, and slope afore we git near ’em. Darn the shots! they’ve spoilt the hull bizness. Quick! come along hyar!”