"Come! come!" answered the renegade, in a somewhat nettled manner; "no insinuations! I saw Peshewa when he arrived." "But could not leave the Big Knife squaw to greet him," added the Indian. "Why, I am not particularly fond of being hurried in my affairs, you know." "But there may be that which will not leave Kitchokema slow to act, in safety," rejoined Wild-cat, significantly. "How, chief! what mean you?" asked Girty, quickly. "The Shemanoes--"[9] "Well?" said Girty. "Are on the trail," concluded Wild-cat, briefly. "Ha!" exclaimed the renegade, with a start, involuntarily placing his hand upon the breech of a pistol in his girdle. "But are you sure, Peshewa?" "Peshewa speaks only what he knows," returned the chief, quietly. "Speak out, then--_how_ do you know?" rejoined Girty, in an excited tone. "Peshewa a chief," answered the Indian, in that somewhat obscure and metaphorical manner peculiar to his race. "He sleeps not soundly on the war-path. He shuts not his eyes when he enters the den of the wolf. He _saw_ the camp-fires of the pale-face." Such had been the fact. Knowing that his trail was left broad and open, and that in all probability it would soon be followed, Wild-cat had been diligently on the watch and as his course had been shaped in a roundabout, rather than opposite direction (as the reader might at first glance have supposed) from that taken by Boone, he and his band, by reason of this, had encamped, on the night in question, not haif a mile distant from our old hunter, but on the other side of the ridge. Ascending this himself, to note if any signs of an enemy were visible, Peshewa had discovered the light of Boone's fire, and traced it to its source. Without venturing near enough to expose himself, the wily savage had, nevertheless, gone sufficiently close to ascertain they were the foes of his race. His first idea had been to return, collect a part of his warriors, and attack them; but prudence had soon got the better of his valor; from the fact, as he reasoned, that his band were now in the enemy's country, where their late depredations had already aroused the inhabitants to vengeance; and he neither knew the force of Boone's party--for the reader will remember they were concealed in a cave--nor what other of his foes might be in the vicinity;--besides which, his purpose had been accomplished, and he was now on the return with his prisoners;--the whole of which considerations, had decided him to leave them unmolested, and ere daylight resume his journey; so that, even should they accidentally come upon his trail, he would be far enough in advance to reach and cross the river before them. Such was the substance of what Wild-cat, in his own peculiar way, now made known to Girty; and having inquired out the location distinctly, the latter exclaimed: