As was always their custom, the boys had kissed both their mother and sister good-bye when starting forth on the hunt, little suspecting what strange vicissitudes of fortune were fated to come upon them ere they four met again.
Of course it was not the intention of Bob and Sandy to remain away from their humble cabin home over night. Had they dreamed of so doing they would have seen to it that the defenceless ones were safely lodged at the blockhouse within the strong stockade in the centre of the settlement; just as Bob had promised his father should be done in case of an Indian attack.
A scout had come in the day before, bringing news that things seemed to be going on about as before. The Indians were indulging in the war dance it was true, and nightly the harsh sound of the war drum might be heard pealing through forest and over plain; but they seemed to be holding back for some final word from that mighty plotter and enemy of the whites, the war-chief of the Great Lakes, Pontiac.
As this would be really the last big hunt, and danger did not seem to be imminent, the boys had no serious fears as they went forth. It gave them so much pleasure to know that they were filling the shoes of the absent father, and providing food for the winter that was drawing nearer every passing day, that they departed in high spirits, throwing back kisses to the two who stood at the door of the cabin, watching their going.
By noon they were miles away from the cabin in the clearing, and intent on the business that had tempted them to the forest. The various members of the party had arranged a central rendezvous where they were expected to meet after they had secured their supply of fresh meat. There were eight in all, making just four couples, for it was deemed wise that they should not separate entirely.
The vast woods that surrounded them on all sides might hide other living things besides the four-footed game which they expected to surprise and secure. For unknown centuries had the red men followed the tortuous buffalo trails in their annual hunts, and frequent spells of warfare between rival tribes. They looked upon the invasion of the palefaces with increasing concern, as meaning the gradual absorption of this fair country; and, as time rolled on, their efforts to stem the tide of emigration by massacre and the torch would become more frantic.
At noon the boys had not succeeded in securing their quota of game. They had purposely given their companions the most desirable locations, feeling certain that in good season they would be able to accomplish all they wished, for Sandy had ever been a lucky hunter.
"Come," said Bob, as they sat side by side on a log to enjoy the "snack" Kate had put up for each of her brothers; "we must do better than this, Sandy, unless we want to have them laugh at us. From now on we ought to stir ourselves, and get either a fat deer or a buffalo."
"I hope it is a cow then, and not a tough old bull," remarked Sandy, who was munching on his hoe cake and cold turkey, the last of a fine gobbler his ready musket had fetched down some days back.