“It’s the three coming in our direction who are bothering me.”

“But remember, Black Rifle, that we are hidden in the deep fog as a fish is hidden in the water, and it will be almost as hard to find us.  They must step nearly upon us before they could see us.”

Black Rifle, in his eventful life upon the border, had passed through many a crisis, but never any that tested his nerves more thoroughly than the one he now faced.  He too heard the steps of the three warriors coming in their direction, cautiously feeling a way through the great bank of mist.  It was true that they could pass near without seeing, but chance might bring them straight to the little group.  He shifted his fingers to the lock and trigger of his rifle, and looked at the sleeping three whose figures were almost hidden, although they were not a yard away.  He felt that they should be awake and ready but in waking, Grosvenor, at least, might make enough noise to draw the warriors upon them at once.

“They have shifted their course a little,” whispered Tayoga, “and it leads to our right.  Now they change back again, and now they keep turning toward the left.  I think they will pass eight or ten yards from us, which will be as good as five hundred or a thousand.”

The white man slowly raised his rifle, but did not cock it.  That action would have made a clicking sound, sharp and clear in the fog, but the quick hands were ready for instant use.  He knew, as Tayoga had said, that the chance of the warriors walking upon them in the blinding fog was small, but if the chance came it would have to be met with all their power and resource.

“I think they will come within about ten feet of us,” continued Tayoga, in his soft whisper.  “There are two tall warriors and one quite short.  The tall ones take about three steps to the short one’s four and even then the short man is always behind.  They do not walk in single file as usual, but spread out that they may cover as much ground as possible.  Now they are coming very near and I think it best, Black Rifle, that I talk no more for the present, but I will hold my rifle ready as you are doing, if unlucky chance should bring them upon us.”

The footsteps approached and passed a little to the left, but came so near that Black Rifle almost fancied he could see the dim figures in the fog.  When they went on he drew a mighty breath and wiped the perspiration from his face.

“We fairly grazed the edge of death,” he whispered.  “I’ll sit up now and you can do the rest of the listening all by yourself, Tayoga.”

“The three have rejoined the main body,” said the Onondaga, “and the other parties that went out have also gone back.  I think the one that went south probably found the way in which they wanted to go, and they will now move on, leaving us safe for the while.  Yes, I can hear them marching and the clank of the French weapons and equipment.”

He listened a few minutes longer, and then announced that they were quite beyond hearing.