The soldiers stood there, peering into the depths of the forest, but could not see any signs of Indians; nor was there any sound to indicate the presence of redskins.
“What kind of a noise did you hear, Fritz?” asked one of the soldiers.
“Oh, id vos a terrible racket, lige a lot uf Injuns fighdin’.”
“Sure an’ Oi don’t belave ye heard inny Injuns at all, Dootchy,” said Tim. “Come wid me, an’ we’ll find out phwat made the racket.”
One of the soldiers seized a brand from the fire, and quite a number made their way to the spot where Fritz had heard the noise, and there, stretched on the ground, dead, they found a wildcat.
“Ho, ho, ho!” laughed Tim. “Sure an’ it’s a woildcat ye wur afther thinkin’ wur Injuns.”
“He made a pretty good shot in the darkness, anyhow,” said another soldier.
“Veil, I am alvays a good shot, alretty,” said Fritz. “But der wildcats made so much racket dot I though dere vos a lot uv redsgins comin’.”
“If there were any redskins in the vicinity, you scared them away,” said a soldier.
“Yah, I guess dot dey vouldn’t come back tonight, alretty,” said Fritz.