Red and Brad both peered through a gap in the foliage. Some distance upstream, but well within their range of vision, White Nose and Eagle Feather could be seen paddling close to shore in a red canoe.
“They’re searching for the cave all right!” Brad observed. “If they see us now, it will be a dead give-away.”
The Cubs knew that their best bet was to lie low and wait. Accordingly, they flattened themselves on the earth, at intervals raising up briefly to survey the slowly moving canoe.
“They’re starting the other way now,” Brad observed in relief. “They haven’t found the cave entrance yet, and they may miss it.”
“Think it’s safe to duck in there now?” Dan asked.
“Let’s wait a little longer,” Brad cautioned. “Until they get around that bend in the river, we’ll be exposed, once we come out of hiding.”
The Cubs waited, nervously aware of how fast time was passing. By now the sun was well up over the treetops, beating down mercilessly upon their backs.
“We won’t have too much time, you know,” Dan reminded his companions. “The pow-wow starts at eleven sharp. Mr. Hatfield will be chewing his fingernails if we don’t get back in plenty of time.”
Brad remained silent, his gaze on the canoe. Now that they were near the mouth of the cave, he wondered if he had been rash to propose entering it without Mr. Hatfield or Mr. Holloway along.
Even in broad daylight the cave looked forbidding, and this time the Cubs were not supplied with flashlights or candles.