The fretting of its current was plainly audible long before the little party arrived on the bank. Above and below, it wound in and out, seldom keeping a direct course for half a mile, such was the roughness of the country through which it found a passage. Without wasting any time in admiring the wonderful picture that was now spread out before them, the three scouts turned up-stream, and continued to advance. They were anxious to reach the scene of the fight between Jasper Williams's little band and the Blackfeet, set upon them by the unscrupulous French traders. Having now been made aware of the fact that hostile Indians were roaming the vicinity, they exercised more caution than up to this time had marked their pilgrimage into the unknown land. An hour--two of them--passed, and thus far nothing had occurred to disturb their peace of mind. All this time they had continued pushing forward. Occasionally they would make a little roundabout passage so as to clear an open glade where the danger of discovery was imminent. No discordant yells from savage throats arose to thrill them. "It seems to be a long way off, Dick," ventured Roger, who evidently had not taken into consideration the fact that at the time of the attack Williams and his companions were something like half a day's journey along. "We must be getting close to the place now," he was assured. "I was just deciding that the next bend in the river would turn out to be where they made their camp. Hardy told us, you remember, that they had hardly settled down there last evening when they were attacked." "Yes, it was an hour before sunset," he said. "They were feeling tired, and the chance for a fine camp tempted them to stop long before dark came on. Hardy tried to describe the place to us, and I suppose you think you can recognize it from the way the trees hang out over the water?" "That is what I settled in my mind; but we'll soon know. Given half an hour and we should be there." The time dragged with the always impetuous Roger; but finally they arrived at the bend of the river indicated. All immediately began to look for signs to prove that the men had camped there. A joyous exclamation from keen-eyed Roger announced that he had found the dead ashes of a fire in a little depression among the rocks. Then the others discovered footprints of moccasined feet, many of them in the softer places where the earth was not yet frozen. "Here are the tracks of Indians, for they all toe in," Dick observed, stating a fact that was well known to every pioneer boy of the day. "Toeing-in" was invariably the sign of an Indian, though of course some bordermen had also taken to that method of walking, which is supposed, to be the natural way. "And these others were made by whites, either our friends or the Frenchmen," added Roger, quick to pick out those that differed from the first type.