"You think Legget's across the river?" asked Jonathan.
"He was two days back, an' had his gang with him. He's up to some bad work, but I can't make out what. One thing, I never seen his trail so near Fort Henry."
They emerged at length into a more open forest which skirted the river. At a point still some distance ahead, but plainly in sight, two small islands rose out of the water.
"Hist! What's that?" whispered Wetzel, slipping his hand in Jonathan's arm.
A hundred yards beyond lay a long, dark figure stretched at full length under one of the trees close to the bank.
"Looks like a man," said Jonathan.
"You've hit the mark. Take a good peep roun' now, Jack, fer we're comin' somewhere near the trail we want."
Minutes passed while the patient bordermen searched the forest with their eyes, seeking out every tree within rifle range, or surveyed the level glades, scrutinized the hollows, and bent piercing eyes upon the patches of ferns.
"If there's a redskin around he ain't big enough to hold a gun," said Wetzel, moving forward again, yet still with that same stealthy step and keen caution.
Finally they were gazing down upon the object which had attracted
Wetzel's attention.