Читать книгу Little Rifle; or, The Young Fur Hunters онлайн

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The lad had cast his glance several times toward the other bank, and the result in each case appeared to be unsatisfactory. There was something there which caused him considerable speculation and misgiving.

If we had been there, it is hardly possible that we should have noticed it, but it could not escape the eye of the boy trapper, who, walking more slowly each moment, finally came to a dead halt, dropping the trap to the ground, and wheeling about so as to face the suspicious point.

The stream to which we have alluded was about two hundred yards in width. There were scarcely any trees at all growing upon the opposite side at this particular position, but there was an abundance of undergrowth and a species of long high grass peculiar to the spot.

That which had arrested the reverie of Little Rifle was not the suspicion, but the certainty that something was moving along the bank, beneath the clustering grass. What it was even he was unable to say. It had caught his eye, or rather the indications of it had, when he was a short distance further down-stream. An unnatural agitation of the grass was the sign that caused him to scrutinize it with unwonted sharpness, until, as we have already shown, he paused in his walk and faced directly about.