“I guess the Injuns cleaned things up pretty well,” he said, while his eyes settled on one little bush apart from the rest.
“That’s not Injuns’ work,” he said.
“No?” Seth queried casually.
“No. Everything gone. So. That not like Injun.”
Seth made no response, but walked over to the bush he had been looking at. The scout saw him thrust a hand in amongst the branches and withdraw it holding something.
“What you find?” he asked, when Seth came back.
“Only a rag.”
Then, a moment later, Seth asked suddenly: “How far from here to—Jason’s old place?”
“Six—eight—nine hour,” Jim Crow said, with his broad smile that meant nothing.