For several moments they jabbered away in a tongue unknown to our hero, much to his disgust, for he was impatient.
When they at length left the lodge, Pedro securing the gold his late companion possessed before doing so, Mason gave a sigh of relief, and made haste to throw off the warm furs in which he had been wrapped.
Then he boldly stalked from the lodge, walking as if he had a perfect right in the village. Several times he came across braves, and on such occasions grasped hold of a revolver, ready for service, but his bearing must have deceived the red-skins, for he was not molested.
After gaining the outskirts of the village, Mason struck at once for the river.
He knew that it was too late to reach the place where the canoe had been left before the giant, and had resolved to wait for it at a point below.
The wisdom of his course was soon made apparent, for his sharp eyes caught sight of a dark object moving slowly down the river near the other bank.
It was Red Goliath's canoe.
[CHAPTER XII.]
WHITE THUNDER ON THE RAMPAGE.