Well for the boys that Paul had felt his impulse to leave the vicinity of the besieged tree, because the course of the warriors would carry them very near it, and they could not fail to detect the alien presence.

But no such suspicion seemed to enter their minds now, and, like the wolves, they were traveling fast, but southward.
The boys stared through the leaves and twigs, afraid but fascinated.
They were fourteen in all--Henry counted them--but never a warrior spoke a word, and the grim line was seen but a moment and then gone, though their dark painted faces long remained engraved, like pictures, on the minds of both.

But to Paul it was, for the instant, like a dream.

He saw them, and then he did not.

The leaves of the bushes rustled a little when they passed, and then were still.
"They must be Southern Indians," whispered Henry.