“Antonio was right. The band was twice as large when it passed, three suns ago.”
“Ef yer right, it beats me,” put in Stevens, in a gruff, but low tone; “only one way to clear it up They’ve been whipt like thunder, an’ consequently ther in a bully flame of mind for rubbin’ us out, if they once get the scent.”
“If the pale-faces will wait till they are settled, they shall learn why but half of these who went returned. They look not like men who have been beaten.”
“Waal. I allow it might be some sort o’ a consideration to know about them things, but then, as the Major ’pears safe, there’s other things nearer home to look at.”
This speech, notwithstanding the important facts which it contained, was somewhat dangerous to their safety, for Biting Fox, the speaker, had incautiously let his voice rise to a very loud whisper. Accordingly, Antonio expressed his opinion on the question of “what’s to be done” by admonishing silence.
“Ef we were squaws, who talk, we might be in danger; but we are men who fight, and do not talk. Antonio will creep up to their camp, and hear what they say.”
No dissenting voice was raised to this proposition, and he departed with that quick and stealthy step, for which the aborigines of our country have been so noted. So weird-like was his motion that he seemed like a ghost flitting through the trees. When he reached the edge of the copse he disappeared entirely.
When the scout had crept up within hearing distance of the encampment, he redoubled his caution. Advancing like a serpent, he felt well around before he drew his body forward, fearful that something might lie in his path, which, giving forth a sound, might herald his approach. Long practice in this kind of work enabled him to advance noiselessly to within a few yards of the nearest group, where, sheltered by the already mentioned trunk of the fallen tree, he could easily understand their conversation. The halt was a temporary one, but a number of the braves, tired by their long journey, had sunk to sleep, only four or five, apparently, being yet awake. These, engaged in a conversation as earnest as would be consistent with their savage dignity, were stationed nearest to the cover which concealed the hunters. All of them appeared to be chiefs of some importance.
Antonio remained in his position near a quarter of an hour; then, having learned those things which he wished to know, sought to retrace, unobserved, his steps. This he succeeded in doing, and, just as the hunters were becoming anxious, on account of his prolonged absence, he stood in their midst.
“Waal, what did yer make out?” was the anxious inquiry.