Let him turn his eyes to the left.

He will see two wild flowers broken off at the stem, a feather which has not fallen from the plumage of a bird, because the quill is painted, and two traces of footsteps in the earth." "As surely as the sun shines, you're right, Tayoga! Warriors have passed here, though we can't tell how many! But the traces are not more'n a half day old." He picked up the feather and examined it carefully.
"That fell from a warrior's scalplock," he said, "but we don't know to what tribe the warrior belonged." "But it's likely to be a hostile trail," said Robert.
Tayoga nodded, and then the three considered.

It was only a fragment of a trail they had seen, but it told them danger was near.

Where they were traveling strangers were enemies until they were proved to be friends, and the proof had to be of the first class, also.

They agreed finally to turn aside into the woods with the canoe, and stop until night.