Through the darkness they saw the twinkle of a camp-fire.
"Thet settles it!" breathed Old Rocks, exultantly. "The skunks are thar! We've run 'em down!"
He gave no further attention to the trail, but straightway made sure that every weapon he possessed was ready for use.
"Now, boy," he whispered, "keep yer nerve. Thar'll be need enough o' it afore long."
"I am with you," assured Frank. "I do not think I shall lose my nerves in this case."
"Wa-al, I don't," confessed the man. "I've got heaps o' conferdence in yer now. We'll creep up."
Then followed something that sorely tried the patience of the boy, for Old Rocks seemed to crawl forward like a snail, taking advantage of every cover that would shield them from the sight of any one in front.
The guide warned Frank to "hug ther ground," and made him creep, and skulk, and wiggle along when there seemed no need of it.
In this way they slowly drew near to the fire, about which figures moved now and then.
"It's ther onery Blackfeet," the guide finally announced. "We hev done a good job so fur ter-day, an' now we wants ter finish it right, you bet!"