At the mouth of the lagoon in which
Rene had awaited Has-se's return they paused, undecided, for a moment.
From the very trail taken by Has-se there branched another, which led
to the distant Seminole fastness in the heart of the great swamp.
Cat-sha at first thought they would do well to examine this trail; for
if it should prove to be some of his own band of whose canoe he had
caught a glimpse, he would surely discover traces of them here.
Chitta, however, said that those who had followed them might chance to
pass on unnoticed while they were in the lagoon. It would be time
enough to examine the trail after they had been back as far as the
bayou, and made certain that nobody was between them and it. Happily
for Rene de Veaux, this counsel had prevailed, and they had gone on up
the stream.
It was while on their return from the bayou that they had caught sight
of the two boys just leaving the lagoon, and that Cat-sha had uttered
his war-cry with such startling effect.
Even at the distance they were, both he and Chitta had seen the
Flamingo Feather braided in Has-se's hair, and had also recognized the
peculiar costume worn by him whom they knew as the son of the great
white chief.
Faster and faster flew the two canoes in their race of life or death
down the narrow stream. That of the two boys was the lighter, but the
other, impelled by the powerful strokes of the gigantic Cat-sha, kept
pace with it from the outset, and at length began slowly to gain upon
it.
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