"Wa-al, jest you creep down behind them an' take yer position ready ter sling lead."
"What are you going to do?"
"Git inter ther camp. I'm goin' ter walk in from t'other side, so they'll be lookin' fer any further danger frum thet quarter. Don't git impatient, fer it'll take me some time ter git round thar. Wait easy."
"I'll wait."
Then the old man crept away into the darkness, and Frank began working his way down to the rocks.
He finally reached the position, and there he waited, being able to look into the camp and see every figure revealed by the flaring fire.
The little girl was there, exhausted by the day of hardships, sleeping soundly. One of the Indians had thrown a greasy blanket over her, so she was protected from the night air, which is always chilly in Yellowstone Park.
Frank's heart throbbed with sympathy as he gazed down on her.
"Poor little Fairy!" he thought. "How she did cling to me! I am ready to wade through fire and water for her. We will save her to-night if we live!"
He found it difficult to restrain his impatience as the time crept slowly away and Old Rocks failed to appear. Some of the Indians rolled themselves in their blankets and prepared to sleep. Others sat and smoked in grim silence.