“Listen to me, Roger,” he said, impressively; “I was just thinking of what old Pat O’Mara told us once, of when he was in a dangerous land, and feared that the Indians might know of his camp. You remember he changed his location as soon as darkness covered his movements. And he was glad he’d done so, because, later on in that same night, he heard shots and yells in the quarter where he had been; and knew that the redskins were pouncing on the dummy figure he had left beside a little fire. We must do the same thing now. I wouldn’t sleep easily unless we made a move.”
“Just as you say, Dick; you’re the chief of the expedition, you know. But do you really think that Indian saw us, and perhaps followed us?”
“I seem to have an idea that way,” replied the other; “several times I thought, when I turned my head and looked back, that I saw a branch fall into place, just as if some one might be watching us from behind the green covert. And once I even believed I saw a shadowy figure flit from tree to tree. No matter if it is a false alarm, Roger; it is better to be on the safe side, as father says.”
“All right, whenever you say the word we’ll make the move,” Roger returned, “and how fortunate that we didn’t undo our stuff any more than we had to, in getting the blankets out. Shall I bring the horses in now, Dick, so we can load up?”
“Yes, it is pitch dark, and we can creep on without any one seeing us, Roger. Besides, if that red spy did follow at our heels, as soon as he saw that we meant to make camp here he must have marked the spot well in his mind, and then slipped off to hunt up the rest of the party. Perhaps they may be miles away, and it would take him hours to find them.”
Roger soon had the horses ready. Then the tired boys started off. They did not venture to mount, but walked ahead of their animals, leading them. This was on account of the darkness, which was so intense that neither could see more than ten feet ahead; and even at that distance the trees bordering the little rise looked dim and uncanny, as though they might be ghosts—at least, that was the way they appeared to the imagination of Roger.
For half an hour they walked along in this fashion, sometimes stumbling over obstacles they could not see, but making steady progress all the while.
“I think we have come far enough, now,” remarked Dick, finally, as he stopped in his tracks.
“Oh! I’m glad to hear you say that!” exclaimed the other, with a long drawn sigh, for he was very tired after that hot day’s journey.
They soon had the horses staked out again, close at hand. Neither of the boys expected to get very much sleep that night, for there seemed to be some strange foreboding in the atmosphere, that affected them.