All caught an indistinct murmur, which proved Linna was right.

"Me tell you--eh?" she said in a proud undertone, her black eyes
sparkling with triumph.

"You are right: wait till I learn whether they are friends or
enemies. I will not be gone long."

Leaving the anxious group clustered together, Ben faced in the
direction of the sounds, which had stopped, and were so faint when
heard that he could not tell whether they belonged to friends or
foes.

As nearly as he could find out, the parties were just beyond the
crest of the ridge, and, but for the warning of Linna, he would
have run into the danger before knowing it.

With the utmost care he went up the slope. He leaned forward and
stepped more slowly, avoiding, so far as he could, making any noise
on the leaves or against the bushes and limbs which he had to push
aside to allow him to advance.

At the instant of reaching the highest point he heard the voices
again, so close that he knew they were made by white people,
who were in a clump of dense undergrowth. A faint wreath of smoke
filtering through the branches overhead showed they had started a
small fire, beside which they were probably sitting or reclining
on the ground.