"Lie down to rest," said Edwards.
"Oh, I can't. Matters look so black."
"You're tired out and discouraged. You'll feel better to-morrow. The situation is not, perhaps, so hopeless. The presence of these frontiersmen should encourage us."
"What will they do? What can they do?" cried Heckewelder, bitterly. "I tell you never before have I encountered such gloomy, stony Indians. It seems to me that they are in no vacillating state. They act like men whose course is already decided upon, and who are only waiting."
"For what?" asked Jim, after a long silence.
"God only knows! Perhaps for a time; possibly for a final decision, and, it may be, for a reason, the very thought of which makes me faint."
"Tell us," said Edwards, speaking quietly, for he had ever been the calmest of the missionaries.
"Never mind. Perhaps it's only my nerves. I'm all unstrung, and could suspect anything to-night."
"Heckewelder, tell us?" Jim asked, earnestly.
"My friends, I pray I am wrong. God help us if my fears are correct.
I believe the Indians are waiting for Jim Girty."