A low whistle was here given on the left, and a few yards above, that startled the Virginian, for it was the signal agreed upon if anything suspicious, should be noticed by the other parties.  He promptly answered it in a different call, and in another minute Green and Philips had joined him.  “What have you seen?” he inquired, not regarding the exclamation of surprise of the new comers, at the unexpected sight before them.

“We’ve seen nothin’ its so dark,” answered Green, “but unless the cattle have got into the garden, there’s somethin’ else movin’ there.  Philips and I listened after we heard the dog howl the first time, for we could hear as if somethin’ like steps were stopped suddenly when he moaned the second time we listened again, and thought the same thing.”

“They couldn’t be cattle,” added Philips, “for the cattle are all kept on the other side.”

“Only the young stock, and them as ain’t used about the farm,” remarked Weston.

“Well, but what kind of steps were they?” eagerly questioned the corporal, whose, imagination was filled not more with the danger that seemed to be near them, than with the censure of himself he feared he should incur, on his return to the fort, for having subjected the party to risk.  “Surely you can tell between the tread of cattle and the steps of men.”

“I should say they, weren’t the steps of cattle; they were too light for that.  Though they couldn’t help crushin’ the dry sticks and rubbish they couldn’t help seein’ lyin’ in the way.  Don’t you think so Philips?”

“I did, corporal, and so sure did I guess them to be no cattle that it was me that whistled.”

“Then there’s no use in going farther,” remarked the Virginian gravely.  “Even if we get to the house, we can’t see anything in it for the darkness, and the poor fellow shows plain enough that it’s to use looking out to save Mr. Heywood or Ephraim Giles.  Come, my lads, we must get back to the boat, and down stream as quick and as quiet as we can.”

Giving his own low whistle of recall, he was answered from the opposite direction, and in a few minutes Cass and Jackson made their appearance.

These latter were, briefly questioned whether they had seen anything, and great was the anxiety of all when it was known that they had also heard in the orchard but in a fainter manner, what had attracted the attention of Green and Philips in the garden.

“Why didn’t you give the signal then, as directed?”

“Because,” answered Cass, “We weren’t quite sure about it, and feared the whistle might tell the Injins, if any were near, our whereabouts.”

Scarce had this explanation been given, when the attention of all was arrested by a loud clear shout of the corporals’ name, evidently uttered by Collins.

“Into the house—­into the house,” exclaimed the same voice.  “The Injins are creeping up to you.”

As these words came ringing upon the silence of the night the dull steps in rapid advance through the two enclosures were now distinctly heard, while the flash of a gun fired in their rear, lighted up the forms of three or four savages, gliding up to them by the pathway by which the corporal had come.