a distance. But I see Wild-cat is getting impatient;" and
as he concluded, he turned abruptly on his heel, and advanced to
Peshewa--who was now standing with his warriors and prisoners on the
bank of the stream, some fifty paces distant, awaiting a consultation
with him--while Ella hid her face in her hands and wept convulsively.

"Welcome, Peshewa!" said Girty, as he approached the chief. "You and
your band are here safe, I perceive; and by ----! you have timed it well,
too, for we have only headed you by half an hour."

"Ugh!" grunted Wild-cat, with that look and gutteral sound peculiar to
the Indian. "Kitchokema has learned Peshewa is here!"

"Come! come!" answered the renegade, in a somewhat nettled manner; "no
insinuations! I saw Peshewa when he arrived."

"But could not leave the Big Knife squaw to greet him," added the
Indian.

"Why, I am not particularly fond of being hurried in my affairs, you
know."

"But there may be that which will not leave Kitchokema slow to act, in
safety," rejoined Wild-cat, significantly.

"How, chief! what mean you?" asked Girty, quickly.

"The Shemanoes--"[9]

"Well?" said Girty.

"Are on the trail," concluded Wild-cat, briefly.

"Ha!" exclaimed the renegade, with a start, involuntarily placing his
hand upon the breech of a pistol in his girdle. "But are you sure,
Peshewa?"

"Peshewa speaks only what he knows," returned the chief, quietly.

"Speak out, then--_how_ do you know?" rejoined Girty, in an excited
tone.

"Peshewa a chief," answered the Indian, in that somewhat obscure and
metaphorical manner peculiar to his race. "He sleeps not soundly on the
war-path. He shuts not his eyes when he enters the den of the wolf. He
_saw_ the camp-fires of the pale-face."

Such had been the fact. Knowing that his trail was left broad and open,
and that in all probability it would soon be followed, Wild-cat had
been diligently on the watch and as his course had been shaped in a
roundabout, rather than opposite direction (as the reader might at first
glance have supposed) from that taken by Boone, he and his band, by
reason of this, had encamped, on the night in question, not haif a
mile distant from our old hunter, but on the other side of the ridge.
Ascending this himself, to note if any signs of an enemy were visible,
Peshewa had discovered the light of Boone's fire, and traced it to its
source. Without venturing near enough to expose himself, the wily savage
had, neverthel