"Look thar!" exclaimed Wetzel, under his breath. He pointed off to
the right of the maple glade. Jonathan gazed in the direction
indicated, and saw two savages stealthily slipping through the
bushes, and behind trees. Presently these suspicious acting spies,
or scouts, stopped on a little knoll perhaps an hundred yards from
the glade.
Wetzel groaned.
"This ain't comfortable," growled Zane, in a low whisper. "Them red
devils are up to somethin' bad. They'd better not move round over
here."
The hunters, satisfied that the two isolated savages meant mischief,
turned their gaze once more toward the maple grove.
"Ah! Simon you white traitor! See him, Lew, comin' with his precious
gang," said Jonathan. "He's got the whole thing fixed, you can
plainly see that. Bill Elliott, McKee; and who's that renegade with
Jim Girty? I'll allow he must be the fellar we heard was with the
Chippewas. Tough lookin' customer; a good mate fer Jim Girty! A fine
lot of border-hawks!"
"Somethin' comin' off," whispered Wetzel, as Zane's low growl grew
unintelligible.
Jonathan felt, rather than saw, Wetzel tremble.
"The missionaries are consultin'. Ah! there comes one! Which? I
guess it's Edwards. By gum! who's that Injun stalkin' over from the
hostile bunch. Big chief, whoever he is. Blest if it ain't Half
King!"
The watchers saw the chief wave his arm and speak with evident
arrogance to Edwards, who, however, advanced to the platform and
raised his hand to address the Christians.
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