“Well, don’t you see something crouching like between the log and the tree—­something close up to both.  See! it moves now a little.”

Corporal Nixon strained his gaze in the direction indicated, but was obliged to admit that, although he distinctly enough saw the log and the tree, he could not discern any between thing them.

“Now, do you see it?” again eagerly inquired Weston, as, at that moment, the same animal was seen to turn itself within the very limited space which had been indicated.

“Yes, I see it now,” replied the Virginian, “but it’s as likely to be a hog as a man, for anything I can make of that shape; a hog that has been filling his skin with hickory nuts, and is but now waking out of his sleep.  Still, as the Injins were there just now, it may be that if they’re gone, they’ve left a spy behind them.  We’ll soon know how matters stand, for it won’t do to remain here all night.  Cass,” addressing the man in the boat who was seated low in the stern, only occasionally taking a sly peep, and immediately withdrawing his head, “place your cap on the rudder, and lie flat in the bottom.  If they are there, and mean to fire at all, they will try their hands at that.”

“I hope they are good marksmen, corporal,” replied the man, as raising his right arm, he removed his forage cap and placed it so that the upper half only could be seen.  “I’ve no great fancy for those rifle bullets, and give them a wide berth when I can.”

“Now are you convinced?” asked Weston, addressing the corporal, as both distinctly saw the object upon which their attention had been anxiously fixed, raise his head and shoulders, while he deliberately rested his rifle against the log on his right.

“Close down, Cass—­don’t move,” enjoined the Virginian; “the bait has taken, and we shall have a shot presently.”

Two almost imperceptible jets of spiral smoke, and crack, crack, went two rifles, while simultaneously with the report, fell back into the boat, the perforated forage cap.  Both balls had passed through it, and lodged in the heart of the tree to which the skiff was moored, and behind which Jackson and Philips had taken their stand.

Evidently believing that they had killed a man, the whole of the band, hitherto concealed behind logs and trees, now rose to their feet, and uttered a fierce and triumphant yell.

“Devilish good firin’, that,” remarked Green, whose face had been touched by a splinter of bark torn from the tree by one of the balls.

“Don’t uncover yourselves, my lads,” hastily commanded the corporal; “all the fellows want now is to see us exposed, that they may have a crack at us.”

“We’ve dried the muskets after a fashion,” said Collins, as he now approached Jackson and Philips.  “Give us a cartridge, and let’s see if we can’t match the varmint at that sort of work.”  Then, having loaded, he, without asking the corporal’s permission, leaned his musket against the tree, and taking a steady aim at the man who had fired from the point first noticed by Weston, drew the trigger.