Nor would he utter another word at the time to satisfy the terrible curiosity of the lads. They could, however, easily picture what had happened—how swiftly the athletic young borderer had pursued the fleeing Frenchman, and, coming in sight of him, perhaps just as Armand, Lacroix was about to use his gun, had taken a shot himself. His well-known skill with firearms had stood Kenton in good stead once more.
Later on, Abijah told them how Kenton had spent a few minutes in concealing all signs of the tragedy, so that, in case any prowling Indians, attracted by the rifle shot, came around to ascertain what it meant, they would fail to learn anything. Even the trail of himself and the Frenchman from the waterfall to the scene of the final meeting was utterly hidden as Kenton backed once more in the direction of the hidden cavern.
Sandy went on with his preparations for the meal; but his hand was not quite so steady as usual when he contemplated the tremendous consequences that must have followed, had the French trapper escaped.
It was difficult to realize that Armand Lacroix would give them no more trouble; that as he had lived, so had he finally died—by violence.
They were yet eating, when silently Blue Jacket entered the cavern, grave as was his custom. Sandy was immediately wringing his brown hand, and plying him with a multitude of questions. So excited did the boy seem that finally Kenton spoke to him rather sternly.
"Let me find out what has been done, Sandy," he said. "Chief, did you discover where the wigwam of Black Beaver is situated in the village?"
"It lies at further edge, close to region of rising sun," replied Blue Jacket, readily enough; for, while he did not entertain the same feeling toward Kenton that he had in his breast for the Armstrong family, at the same time he recognized, in this friend of the great Colonel Boone, one who held the respect of all hostile Indians on account of his dash and valor.
"Good. That will be of value to us when we start the blaze going," declared the borderer; "because the chances are ten to one that the wind will be out of the west, and hence we can begin work far away from that single lodge. As the Indians rush toward the fire, to put it out, they will leave the eastern side of the village unguarded; then we can do what we have planned, and disappear."
"Did you meet Pontiac?" asked Bob, who could not forget his fears for Blue Jacket, should such an encounter take place.
"Blue Jacket ask see um," replied the Shawanee; "when he exchange greetings with chief, Silver Heels, whom he knows. Some time, perhaps, Blue Jacket may yet follow in footsteps of great Pontiac. If any one man bind the tribes in big league to drive paleface back beyond the hills, Pontiac do it. And the heart of Blue Jacket beats true to his people."