Would he sneak off through the wood and out of the valley, and would he be seen and heard no more that night?
or would he return to revenge himself for the injury to his pride?
Was he alone in the grove, or were there a half dozen brother-demons sulking among the undergrowth, like so many rattlesnakes, except that they did not give any warning before striking their blow?
Had any of them visited Mickey or Thompson, and was a general attack about to be made upon the settlement?
Such questions as these surged through the mind of Fred, as he stood leaning against the tree, rifle in hand, listening, looking, and thinking.
Suddenly he gave utterance to a low whistle, which he was accustomed to use as a signal in communicating with Mickey.

It was almost instantly answered, in a way which indicated that the Irishman was approaching.

A minute later the two were together.

The lad hastily related his stirring adventure with the great Apache war-chief, and, as may be imagined, Mickey was dumfounded.
"It's meself that has n't seen or heard the least sign of one of the spalpeens since the set of sun, and they've been about us all the time." "How was it they got here without being seen ?" "There be plenty ways of doing the same.

They've found out that we were watching this pint, and so they slipped round and came the other way." "Do you think they will attack us to-night ?" "I'm thinkin' they're only making observations, as me uncle obsarved, when he was cotched in the house of Larry O'Mulligan, and they'll be down on us some time, when everything is ready." "It seems to me it is a poor time to make observations--in the night." "The red-skin is like an owl," replied Mickey.