ats and hobbles of several
horses, spring suddenly on their backs, and gallop away.

They not only steal from white men, but tribes that are at enmity steal
from each other, and the boldness with which they do this is most
remarkable. When Indians are travelling in a country where enemies are
prowling, they guard their camps at night with jealous care. The horses
in particular are both hobbled and picketed, and sentries are posted all
round the camp. Yet, in spite of these precautions, hostile Indians
manage to elude the sentries, and creep into the camp. When a thief
thus succeeds in effecting an entrance, his chief danger is past. He
rises boldly to his feet, and, wrapping his blanket or buffalo robe
round him, he walks up and down as if he were a member of the tribe. At
the same time he dexterously cuts the laryats of such horses as he
observes are not hobbled. He dare not stoop to cut the hobbles, as the
action would be observed, and suspicion would be instantly aroused. He
then leaps on the best horse he can find, and uttering a terrific
war-whoop darts away into the plains, driving the loosened horses before
him.

No such dark thieves were supposed to be near the camp under the
birch-tree, however, so Joe, and Dick, and Henri ate their supper in
comfort, and let their horses browse at will on the rich pasturage.

A bright ruddy fire was soon kindled, which created, as it were, a
little ball of light in the midst of surrounding darkness for the
special use of our hardy hunters. Within this magic circle all was
warm, comfortable, and cheery. Outside all was dark, and cold, and
dreary by contrast.

When the substantial part of supper was disposed of, tea and pipes were
introduced, and conversation began to flow. Then the three saddles were
placed in a row; each hunter wrapped himself in his blanket, and,
pillowing his head on his saddle, stretched his feet towards the fire
and went to sleep, with his loaded rifle by his side and his
hunting-knife handy in his belt. Crusoe mounted guard by stretching
himself out _couchant_ at Dick Varley's side. The faithful dog slept
lightly and never moved all night, but had any one observed him closely
he would have seen that every fitful flame that burst from the sinking
fire, every unusual puff of wind, and every motion of the horses that
fed or rested hard by, had the effect of revealing a speck of glittering
white in Crusoe's watchful eye.

CHAPTER SIX.