As I was going on I heard voices, and stopped breathlessly to listen. They did not sound like those of Indians, and presently I saw a couple of figures pass in front of the fire.  I almost shouted for joy as I distinguished by their outlines against the bright blaze that their dress was that of white men.  I felt sure that the people I saw before me were our friends; still, caution was necessary, for it was possible that they were prisoners of the Indians, saved from the caravan lately destroyed, only to meet with a more cruel death by torture.  There might be a large party of Indians encamped.