Luc was probably there.
Tayoga lay almost flat, face downward, and stared intently at the high
bank.
"I think, Dagaeoga," he said, "that so long as we keep close to the
earth we may creep a little nearer, and perhaps our eyes, which are
good, may be able to pick out the figures of our foes from the leaves
and bushes in which they probably lie hidden."
They dragged themselves forward about fifty yards, taking particular
care to make nothing in the thickets bend or wave in a manner for which
the wind could not account. Robert stared a long time, but his eyes
separated nothing from the mass of foliage.
"What do you see, Tayoga?" he whispered at last.
"No proof of the enemy yet, Dagaeoga. At least, no proof of which I am
sure. Ah, but I do now! There was a flash in the bushes. It was a ray of
sunlight penetrating the leaves and striking upon the polished metal of
a gun barrel."
"It means that at least one Indian or Frenchman is there. Keep on
looking and see if you don't see something more."
"I see a red feather. At this distance you might at first take it for a
feather in the wing of a bird, but I know it is a feather in the
scalplock of a warrior.
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