"There, that was a shout, and close by, too. I think it must have been Darby calling to that lazy beast of his, which wants to lie down in every little stream we have to ford. Yes, there he breaks out again," said Sandy.
"And from the row that is going on, and the laughing, I fear the beast has done what he's been threatening to do this long while, and rolled over in a brook. But I can see them now, over yonder," said Bob, pointing.
Presently the straggling line of pack-horses came along. When the head man saw what a fine supply of meat the two young Nimrods had awaiting them, he gave the word to pitch camp.
"The afternoon is going, and we could hardly find a better spot than right here," he observed; at which there was a bustle all around, for camp always meant a period of ease and rest from the weary tramping over rough ground.
"But what is that you are carrying, Sandy?" demanded David Armstrong, as he came along with his two horses, his wife and Kate tramping at their side with the steadiness of squaws, for they had become accustomed to such vigorous and healthy labor.
"An Indian's bow and arrow which we picked up after Bob shot and wounded the owner, who was trying to get me," the boy quickly replied.
At the word "Indian" others came to stare at the weapon with curiosity, not unmixed with alarm, for they knew only too well that now they had burned their bridges behind them, for there could be no going back, and every day carried them further and further into the debatable country of the Shawanees, which later on would be known as the "dark and bloody ground."