Читать книгу The Trail of Black Hawk онлайн

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They walked quickly to the place where the canoe had been hidden, but it was not to be found.

“Where do you suppose he has gone?” demanded Joseph.

“I’ve no idea. Scouting, I guess.”

“I hope nothing happens to him,” exclaimed Joseph. “Suppose he should be killed. We’d be left in a nice fix; on an island in the middle of a swamp we know nothing about, and with no boat to take us off.”

“Don’t worry about anything happening to Deerfoot,” said Robert confidently. “He’ll be back here safe and sound before long.”

“I hope you’re right. Let’s go back to the hut and wait there.”

A few moments later the boys seated themselves in front of the little log cabin. They sat where the sun would shine directly upon them, for the early morning air was cold. They took especial care, however, to select a place where they would not be exposed to the view of any chance passerby. They knew enough about Indians to realize that one can never be too careful when attempting to remain hidden from them. An Indian will see the smoke of a camp fire for miles distant; the slightest noise will alarm him, and a trail is an open book for him to read.