This was alarming news. Ben Ripley imitated the action of Linna. Kneeling down, he pressed his ear to the earth.  
Yes; he heard faint footfalls. Persons were moving about not far away.
 
"She is right," he said in a low tone; "likely they are Indians, though we cannot be certain."
 
"It won't do to wait till they come to us," remarked his mother.
 
"Shall I put out the fire?" asked Ben, disconcerted by the suddenness of the danger.
 
"No; we can't spare the time. Let us leave. Come, children."
 
She took the hand of each girl and walked quickly off, while Ben caught up the blankets and followed. They had no particular point in view, but wished to reach a safe place without delay.
 
The gloom of the gathering night helped them, and when they paused they were confident they had not been seen by anyone.
 
Without any thought on their part, they made their way to a mass of rocks and boulders, more extensive than any seen through the day. It was a hundred yards from their starting point.
 
They sat down for a whispered consultation.
 
"They must have heard the report of my rifle," said Ben.
 
"That was a considerable while ago, and they may have been a good way off at the time."
 
"Then, being so much nearer, it was the report which brought them. What would become of us but for Linna?" added Ben placing his arm affectionately around her. "It was she that got us our supper, and now she warns us of danger."
 
"They may be Zitner and Burwink."
 
"Not likely, but if they come to our fire we shall soon find out. Look!"
 
To their astonishment, the little fire which they had left only a few minutes before burned up brightly, showing that a lot of fuel had been thrown on it.
 
Too many trees and too much undergrowth obtruded for them to detect anything more than the great increase in brightness.
 
"The darkness will prevent their following our footprints," whispered the mother.
 
"I will go a little nearer and find out what it means: it may be, after all, that they are friends."
 
"Be careful, my son."
 
"I will."
 
It was not a hard task Ben Ripley gave himself. He had not far to go, and he proceeded with so much caution that no risk was involved. Only half the distance was passed when he gained a full view of the camp fire and its surroundings.
 
The sight was disquieting. Three Indian warriors were there. One had been gathering dry sticks which he flung on the blaze; another was helping himself to what was left of the cooked turkey; while the third, bent low, moved slowly around the lit up portion of the ground with his eyes fixed on it.
 
It was plain he was scrutinizing the footprints made by the party that had left just in time to escape them. It was a fortunate discovery made by Linna!
 
With the aid of the bright glare, it could not take him long to identify the little party as fugitives fleeing eastward, though it may be questioned whether they learned that it consisted of one large boy, an adult woman, and two small children.
 
They were in the battle yesterday. They have left others to look after those in Wyoming, while they are hunting the poor creatures that have taken to the woods.
 
The Iroquois who had been studying the ground straightened himself up and said something to the others. One of them then flung more fuel on the flames, and he who was ravenously eating suspended his operations, but quickly resumed again, as if he liked his occupation better than anything else to which he could turn his attention.
 
Then the first stooped down and caught up a burning brand. Several quick circles over his head fanned it into a vigorous blaze. Holding it aloft, with his shoulders bent forward, he moved slowly towards Ben Ripley.
 
He was tracing the footprints by the aid of the torch!
 
"Gracious! he will be among us in a minute," was the terrifying thought of the lad, who turned and ran back to his friends, in such haste that he was in danger of betraying his movements.
 
"Leave—quick!" he said; "they are after us!"
 
"No, they are not," replied his mother, who nevertheless stood ready to do as he said.
 
Ben looked back. The warrior with a torch, after walking a rod or so from the fire, had stopped, and was now in plain sight, with the flaming brand held above his head, while he peered out in the gloom in the direction of the fugitives, as if expecting to discern them.
 
Could he have known how near they were, he and his companions would have rushed down upon them; but they must have thought they had fled much further. It was impossible to trail them by torchlight as fast as they could travel, and the Indians did not waste time in the effort. The one with the torch went back to his companions.
 
The incident warned our friends of a new form of danger, which until then had not been counted among the probabilities.
 
The Indians, as you know, can trace a person through the woods with wonderful skill, seeing signs where the untrained eye observes nothing. If these three chose to wait where they were until daylight, there was nothing to prevent their taking up the trail and tracing the fugitives wherever they went.
 
"It won't do to stay here," said Ben, "for they will be right upon us at daylight."
 
"Providing they wait where they are."
 
"Why should they not do so? They are looking for us."
 
Mrs. Ripley dared not answer the question as her heart prompted. At the same time, she could think of no means of throwing them off their track.
 
"It might have been better had we stayed with Zitner and Burwink—no, it would not have been," she corrected herself, "for they were unfriendly to Linna. But we must go."
 
The only hope that presented itself was that they might travel so far during the darkness that the Indians would not keep up the pursuit when the trail was revealed to them.
 
The moon did not rise until very late, and there being no path, while all ............