Here old Stock, the steward, was securely hidden, awaiting their coming.
"What's in the wind now?" asked Jack.
"We're bound to scare your friends, and I want you to dress up as Indians. Stock has everything ready for us, even to a pot of red paint."
Jack struck an attitude.
"Heap big Injun, ugh!" he exclaimed, amid much laughter.
They quickly proceeded to disguise themselves, tied feathers in their hair, put on their war-paint, and slung blankets over their shoulders.
While they were dressing the three buffalo-hunters were approaching the old bull, who watched them with as much curiosity as they displayed with regard to him.
"Twinkle," said the captain, "you are entitled to the first shot."
"N-no," replied Twinkle, with chattering teeth. "Think you ought to have the honor."
"I decline it."