“Ha! Nogawa knows where the Lone Dove is,” murmured Nehonesto, in tones of unconcealed delight. “He has been spying for his master, and—”
A bird-signal broke the sepulchral stillness of the night.
It was now patent to the twain that Jules Bardue and Nogawa had promised to meet near the mouth of Mink Creek, and that the Indian had been tardy in keeping his appointment.
Nehonesto smiled, and from his throat came the croaking of the great emerald frog.
Immediately the footsteps which had ceased, were heard nearer than before, and presently they saw the lithe form of Nogawa approaching.
Suddenly he halted, signaled, and heard the frog croak again.
Then the two friends heard him exclaim, “Yellow Chief!” and with his eyes bent upon the spot where they crouched he walked boldly and unsuspectingly into the snare!
Nehonesto sprung forward, and Nogawa found himself a prisoner!
“Who holds the eagle’s pinions?” he demanded, trying to tear away from the grip of his own countryman.
“Who? Nehonesto! Nogawa came to meet the Yellow Bloodhound, and if he would find him, he must dive beneath the water and hunt among the fishes. Yes, the Yellow Bloodhound has stepped upon the trail of death; he scents blood no more in the woods of the Illinois. Nogawa knows where he hid the Lone Dove, and to the den he must lead Nehonesto and the Young Hunter.”