“That will I, honest Baptiste,” replied our hero; “the Lenapé shall not say that their chief was deserted by his adopted brother; neither will I forget the signals—farewell!” Here the two parties separated, that of Baptiste resuming their pursuit of the trail, and that of War–Eagle following in silence the rapid strides of their young chief across the prairie to the eastward. He marched for several hours in silence—his brow wore an expression of thoughtfulness, and he stopped several times as if to scan the bearing and the distance of every remarkable elevation or object in the undulating prairie which they were crossing. It was now about midday; they had walked since daybreak without halt or food; the rays of the sun were fiercely hot, and it required all the determined energy of Reginald’s character to enable him to endure in silence the heat and thirst by which he was oppressed; as for Monsieur Perrot, he had contrived to secrete a small flask of brandy about his person, more than one mouthful of which, mingled with the muddy water of the pools which they passed, had hitherto enabled him to keep pace with the rest of the party, but he was now beginning to lag behind, and some of the Indians were obliged to urge and assist him forward. At this juncture War–Eagle suddenly stopped, and uttering a sound like a low hiss, crouched upon the ground, an attitude into which the whole party sunk in a moment. Laying a finger lightly on Reginald’s arm, he pointed to the upper range of a distant hill, saying, “There are men!” Our hero, shading his eyes with his hand, looked in the direction indicated, but, after a careful survey, he could see nothing but the faint green reposing in the sunny haze of noon: he shook his head; but War–Eagle replied with a quiet smile— “My brother saw the rifles behind the log near the Muskingham; his eyes are very true, but they have not looked much at the prairie; let him use his medicine glass–pipe.” When Reginald had adjusted his telescope, he looked again to the spot on which the bright clear eye of War–Eagle was still riveted like the gaze of a Highland deer–hound, who has caught sight of a hart browsing on the further side of some wide and rocky glen. “By Heaven, it is true!” he exclaimed. “I see them—one, two, three, mounted Indians; they are at speed—and buffalo are galloping before them.” “That is good,” said War–Eagle; “keep the glass–pipe before them, and say if they go out of sight, or if more appear.” Reginald did so; and after a few minutes, reported that they had disappeared over a neighbouring height, and that no others had come in view.