“Yes; we have but four miles to go now.”
“There seems to be plenty of light in the place; how is that?”
The Indian did not reply, but spoke in his own language to his neighbour.
“You don’t understand them, do you?” said Campbell in a low voice. “More do I, worse luck. They seem to be very proud of themselves all at once. If I were you, I’d have an answer out of that chap.”
The lieutenant laid his hand sharply on the redskin’s naked shoulder.
“Answer the question, my friend. We don’t want all that mumbling and whispering.”
The man remained sulkily silent, but the Chippewyan to whom he had spoken, a brighter, more intelligent fellow, said:
“We are pleased because our warriors have come down from the mountains, and are burning the town.”
“Your warriors’ll get hurt, if that’s their game,” said Mayne; and for a while nothing more was said. But as they came nearer to the lights, the Indians all began talking at the top of their voices, and Mayne was obliged to call for silence. Presently the mounted redskin stopped his horse, and a halt was called.
“We had better go back, or wait for more warriors,” he said; “we are too few.”