Both his eye and his ear had caught "sign"-- a clamor among the moose birds in the distant bush and a flock of pigeons flying from the west.
"Don't none o' ye stir till I come back," he said, as he turned into the trail.

A few rods away he lay down with his ear to the ground and could distinctly hear the tramp of many feet approaching in the distance.

He went on a little farther and presently concealed himself in the bushes close to the trail.

He had not long to wait, for soon a red scout came on ahead of the party.

He was a young Huron brave, his face painted black and yellow.