"I almost wish they would
fire a shot, for that would at once tell us how to act,
and what we are to expect, whether they are friendly
Indians or not."
But no shot was fired, and from the moment when the men
quitted the boat, and took up their positions, everything
had continued silent as the grave on the opposite shore,
and not the vestige of an Indian could be seen.
"But for that scalp," again remarked the corporal, "I
should take the party to have been friendly Indians,
perhaps just returned from a buffalo hunt, and come down
to the water to drink. They are surely gone again."
"Look there," said Weston, in a subdued tone, while he
placed his hand on the shoulder of his superior, as both
lay crouched in their hiding-place, "look there, corporal,"
and he pointed with his finger to the opposite bank.
"Do you see that large, blackish log lying near the
hickory, and with its end towards us?"
"I do--what of it?"
"Well, don't you see something crouching like between
the log and the tree--something close up to both. See!
it moves now a little."
Corporal Nixon strained his gaze in the direction indicated,
but was obliged to admit that, although he distinctly
enough saw the log and the tree, he could not discern
any between thing them.
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