"Did you take note of the village, so as to know where to start the fire in case we are compelled to adopt that method of confusion, under cover of which Kate may be rescued?" Kenton continued.
He purposely brought the name of the girl into what he said, for he saw that the young Shawanee winced at mention of firing the village. Only his devotion to the Armstrong family would induce him to thus play a double part, and turn upon his own people.
"Blue Jacket did all that," came the answer slowly, as though it were only with a great effort that the Indian brought himself to confess how he had spied on the Senecas, who were allies of his own tribe.
"You do not think Pontiac suspected you, I hope?" asked Kenton.
"Not so. Blue Jacket hide feelings. No can tell what um think. Great sachem much pleased meet Blue Jacket. Say hear good report same. Bob, Sandy, get chance see sister. Nobody look, talk, Kate grind maize in stone. Come 'long again, find this on ground. Bring Bob, him read trail of crazy fly on bark!" ([Note 7.])
To the astonishment and delight of the boys he suddenly produced a small strip of birch bark from his little ornamented bag where he carried his flints, together with the paints which were used to decorate his face when on the warpath, and various other things dear to the heart of a brave.
Upon the smooth inner surface of the tiny roll of bark Kate had managed to write just a few words, using the juice of the poke berry, and perhaps a splinter of wood in place of a quill.
"Bob—Sandy, come and take me home to mother. Kate."
Tears came unbidden into the eyes of both boys as they saw these expressive words which had been inscribed on the bark by their dear little sister. They could read between the lines the dumb pain of a heart nearly broken by the extent of the terrible disaster that had befallen the child.