"Climb far up, Bob, Sandy," breathed the voice of the red guide, as he himself started to set the example. Wonderingly the two brothers obeyed. Neither of them could just then give the slightest guess as to why Blue Jacket wished them to climb the tree. Even though the woods did seem to be full of moving red men, and the risk of discovery constant, it would appear that they might have readily found some dense thicket into which they could have crawled, and thus remain undiscovered by the enemy. But, by this time, both of the young pioneers had come to understand that Blue Jacket never made a move without a good reason; and Bob, in particular, felt positive that presently they would learn the meaning of this queer action. Not until he had mounted far into the dense branches of the great oak did the young Shawanee brave halt. "Now, sit like rock--no move--see soon what happen!" whispered the red guide, as they came to a halt. A short time passed away. Bob was listening intently. Dimly a suspicion as to the truth was beginning to filter through his brain. He wished to verify it, and it was for this reason that he strained his ears to the limit. Then from underneath something came to him. Sandy, too, must have heard it, for his lips sought the ear of his brother, and he whispered as softly as the sigh of the night breeze through the topmost branches of the great oak: "Indians below!" CHAPTER XX PONTIAC IN THE COUNCIL KNOWING the folly of trying to enter into any sort of talk at such a time, Bob only pinched the arm of his more reckless brother. And Sandy understood what that signified; he was to say not another word. Other sounds reached them. Bob caught the well-known click of flint and steel, and knew that a fire was about to be started. Presently sparks flashed and then the tinder caught, so that a little flame darted up. As this was carefully fed by a practised hand it grew in volume, until the darkness that had rested under the thick branches of the great oak began to be dissipated. By degrees Bob could make out the figures of several Indians. He stared as if unable to believe his eyes, for every one of them seemed to have vied with the others in assuming a grotesque dress. Several wore horns, and all of them had their faces hidden behind masks, usually the heads of some animal. The first represented a wolf, one of those gaunt timber pirates that could easily pull a stag to earth; another had on a buffalo head; while a third seemed to represent a panther. Their garments were elaborately fashioned, and their persons decked with all manner of tinkling bits of metal, and colored porcupine quills. Not a movement did they make after once throwing off their reserve but that Bob was reminded of a necromancer he had once seen a very long time ago, in a playhouse in Richmond, to which his father took him at Christmas time.