The minutes fairly dragged along. Sandy tried to count so as to have something to occupy his mind and keep him quiet; but he found it impossible to keep from thinking of that dear little sister whom they had come so far to save.
Then, without the slightest warning, Blue Jacket stood beside them, grave, and with folded arms. Bob guessed the truth instantly from the manner of their red ally, for, had the other any good news to declare, he must have shown it. Sandy was not so ready a reader of human nature, and immediately exclaimed in a whisper:
"What success did you have, Blue Jacket? Is it our sister, and those braves the Senecas who stole her away from our mother's cabin?"
"No Black Beaver, no paleface girl. Seneca braves, and young squaw, that all!" replied the spy, stolidly.
Of course the sanguine Sandy was terribly disappointed; so much so that he allowed a groan to break from his lips. After which once more his resolution took a firm grip upon him.
"Then we must forget all about this, and push on to find the village where Black Beaver, the thief, has his lodge. It keeps getting harder and harder; but nothing is going to stop us, is it, Bob?" he declared, grimly.
"Nothing!" echoed the older brother, as he pressed Sandy's hand.
They lay down, almost exhausted, and sought to secure the rest of which they were so sorely in need. With the coming of another day they watched until the little party once more launched their canoe, and started paddling off toward the east.
To Bob this was a mere incident that interested him but little. Blue Jacket on the other hand saw a deep significance in the move. He knew it very probably indicated that the village to which these Indians belonged was located somewhere toward the east, or they would hardly be going in the direction of the rising sun, and that was a most important point for them to know, now that the big water blocked their further travel to the north.
Through the entire day they moved steadily along, at first in the canoe they had found, and then, abandoning the canoe, they continued on foot. But conditions had commenced to assume a different aspect. Three separate times during this day Blue Jacket's amazing power of observation, or intuition, had saved them from running into danger. The woods seemed to be full of parties of Indians, either hunting, or heading toward some central point, where possibly they expected to hold a grand powwow or "palaver," as a council was called by the bordermen.