Something had moved beyond the leaves there! An instant later around the bend came an Indian. Hope vanished and fear took its place, for the savage was not the vanguard of the English searching party, but he who had kept watch last night above the cave!
Softly yet swiftly he came, his tomahawk in hand, his head turning from side to side as he peered with sharp eyes into the forest. David dropped to the ground, scarce breathing. Somewhere behind him in the depths of the wood an owl hooted. The Indian stopped abruptly and swept the forest with his gaze. David saw the brown fingers about the haft of the tomahawk tighten. Again came the owl’s tremulous call, this time much nearer, and David’s heart sank sickeningly, for he knew that the sound came from no owl and that his brief freedom was near its end. Turning his head, he looked behind him. At first there was naught to be seen. Then the branch of hemlock quivered slightly some dozen paces distant and beside it something redder than the bole of the tree showed in the sunlit haze. The soft padding of moccasined feet drew his gaze to the trail again, and any lingering hope he may have had of escaping detection
