ng Dakotahs, who do not stay long in one place."

"But there were only two of them, and Dakotahs go in bigger crowds than
that. Matt says they took this path, and I saw them strike into the
woods myself."

"Doubtless we are right, then. We might go over to Kit Cruncher's, and
inquire if he has seen anything of the thieves," suggested Mr.
Mellowtone.

"I am sure he has not seen them; if he had, he would have stopped them.
And the Indians know him well enough to keep out of his way. He is hard
on Indians when they don't behave themselves."

"Very well, Phil Farringford. You are the leader of this expedition,
and I will obey your orders."

"I hope you won't, sir; at least, I don't mean to give you any orders,"
I replied, abashed at the humility of one whom I regarded as the
greatest and best man in the world.

We walked in silence for another hour, for my companion always did more
thinking than talking. I led the way, and kept both of my eyes and both
of my ears wide open, expecting every moment to come upon the camp of
the savages. While we were thus cautiously tramping through the forest,
I heard the neighing of a horse behind us.

"Hark!" I whispered to Mr. Mellowtone. "We have passed them."

"How can that be?"

"They struck off from the river, and went into the woods to sleep. That
was old Firefly's voice, I know. I shouldn't wonder if he heard us."

"If he did, perhaps the Indians heard us also."

"If they have that jug of whiskey with them, they are too drunk to hear
anything by this time."

"We must look for the place where they left the path."

"It is rather dark to look for anything tonight," I replied, as I led
the way back.

We proceeded with great care, though we made noise enough to apprise
Firefly of the approach of friends. He was a knowing old horse, and had
faithfully served his master for ten years, but was still a very useful
animal. I fancied that he despised Indians quite as much as old Matt
himself, and that he was utterly disgusted with his present situation
and future prospects. Doubtless he was very uneasy, and displeased at
being away from his rude but comfortable stable. The grass had just
begun to start a little in the wet soil, and as our stock of hay was
getting low, I had picketed them with long ropes where they could feed.
In this situation they had become an easy prey to the Indians.

I hoped old Firefly would speak again, and I ventured upon a low
whistle, to inform him