The Indian swept a hand towards the woods.
“That way have they gone. The double trail is there. Also there is a dead man there!”
“A dead man?” cried the white man in sudden fear.
“An Indian! I know him not!”
“Take me to him,” said the corporal imperatively. Without a word Sibou turned and led the way into the wood, and after a few minutes’ walk Roger Bracknell found himself near the mouth of the creek, looking down into the face of a dead man. He recognized him instantly.
“He is known to you?” asked Sibou.
“Yes, he is known to me. He was the servant of the white man who lived in the cabin.”
“He was shot in the back with an arrow.” explained Sibou. “He must have been looking down at the trail when he died.”
Roger Bracknell looked at the dead Indian for a little time without speaking, then fear for what was to come shook him.
“Sibou,” he said, “we must make haste. There is not a moment to waste. Those men in the camp are very desperate men. Two men already have died at their hands, and they are now on the trail of the man who was in the hut and of the ladies whom we seek. We must follow hard!”