"Lead on," said Wharton, with a wave of his hand, "and don't walk quite so fast." "Me walk just so," replied Arqu-wao, accommodating his gait to that of his captors. "I don't know what to make of him," remarked Wharton, when the advance was resumed. "I have half a mind to take his bow away from him." "Ye haven't observed him doing anything wrong yet," was the response of Larry. "What of his manner just now?" "It looked bad, but we ain't sartin that it meant anything at all." "We would be more certain if he had no weapon." "Hold on a bit; if we stop for dinner or anything else, we won't give him a chance. I think, between ourselves, we can watch him so sharp that he won't do any harrum." Wharton consented to this arrangement, though he could not free himself of a strong misgiving in doing so. Arqu-wao continued his guidance as though no thought of anything but the strictest loyalty to his captors had ever entered his brain, all awry with its unimaginable fancies. Perhaps there had not. The truth must become known before the set of sun. At intervals the guide turned his head far enough to glance back, but this was so evidently for the purpose of learning whether his pace was satisfactory that no suspicion was excited. His conduct could not have been more satisfactory, so far as appearances went. The party were abroad in the woods, and the youths had only a very general idea of where they were. They had made many windings and turnings, and at last had forsaken the only reliable guide--the gorge--by which to find their way back to the trail. This, as we have shown, was a matter of no moment, provided the Shawanoe was not meditating treachery against them; but how easy for him, if he chose, to lead them into a trap. "Halloo, what's up now?" asked Wharton. "Hold your gun ready!" The Indian had come to a sudden stop, and, looking back, raised one hand, which the lads accepted as a request for them also to halt. They obeyed him. Standing thus, with his body as rigid as iron, Arqu-wao slowly turned his head so as to look at each point of the compass in turn. Those behind him did the same, not forgetting to use their hearing as best they could, but with no result. The Shawanoe next knelt down and applied his ear to the ground, as his people do when suspecting the nearness of an enemy whom their eyes fail to detect. It was possible, of course, that this pantomime was part of a carefully laid plan to put them off their guard. If so, though cleverly done, it failed to succeed. The result of the guide's test seemed to be satisfactory, for he quietly assumed the perpendicular again and resumed his walk. He did not look back, evidently concluding that they knew enough to follow without any direction from him. "Larry," whispered his friend, "let's fall a little more to the rear, so that, if he tries any of his tricks, we'll have a better chance for ourselves."