Sandy gave a quick start of alarm and put his hand back to his automatic. Thede motioned him to leave his gun where it was.
"This is a friendly Indian," the boy explained. "I've often heard Pierre refer to him. He's called Oje, but I don't know whether that's his name or not. He's said to be the champion fisherman of this section, and if you really want to get fish for supper, we'd better get him interested."
Oje was not a very romantic looking Indian, his general appearance being that of a bear fitted out with about three hides. The boys noticed, however, that none of the clothing he wore was fastened closely about his waist or throat. In fact, as he joined them with a grunt, they saw that the roughly-made garments were nearly all open.
The Indian knows better than to bring his clothing where it will come in contact with either his breath or with perspiration. Should he do this in very severe weather, he would soon find everything about him frozen stiff. He is sure, however, to carry enough clothing with him to keep him warm in repose and during the long nights.
"How do you know that's Oje?" whispered Sandy, as the Indian stood looking questioningly at the two boys.
"Because he answers to the description."
"Howdy!" the Indian exclaimed in a moment.
The boys returned the greeting, and then followed a conversation which was almost entirely expressed by signs.
Oje was invited to proceed with the boys on a fishing trip, and, later, to accept of their hospitality at the cabin. The Indian gave a grunt of assent, and at once turned toward the river.
As they passed the spot where the cache had been, Sandy glanced curiously toward the Indian, as though wondering whether he had not been the one to dig out the provisions. The Indian, however, walked on without appearing to notice either the rifled cache or the suspicious glances of the boy. Arrived at the river, the Indian, after carefully testing the ice, walked to a small island near the shore.