"That is close work, chief. Where was the trail?"

The Mohican pointed to a spot not a hundred yards from that where
they stood.

The matter now began to look very serious, and the two principal
guides conferred apart for several minutes, when both ascended the
bank, approached the indicated spot, and examined the trail with
the utmost care. After this investigation had lasted a quarter
of an hour, the white man returned alone, his red friend having
disappeared in the forest.

The ordinary expression of the countenance of the Pathfinder was
that of simplicity, integrity, and sincerity, blended in an air
of self-reliance which usually gave great confidence to those who
found themselves under his care; but now a look of concern cast a
shade over his honest face, that struck the whole party.

"What cheer, Master Pathfinder?" demanded Cap, permitting a voice
that was usually deep, loud, and confident to sink into the cautious
tones that better suited the dangers of the wilderness. "Has the
enemy got between us and our port?"

"Anan?"

"Have any of these painted scaramouches anchored off the harbor
towards which we are running, with the hope of cutting us off in
entering?"

"It may be all as you say, friend Cap, but I am none the wiser