“No, you needn’t worry, boys. They’ll soon fix it all up at Washington and the soldiers will come home.”
“The officer said it would be hell at Vicksburg,” Tim remarked, “and it would be a big, long war.”
“That’s what some of the army officers think,” the trapper admitted, “but most other people don’t think so.”
Black Buffalo was as much puzzled by the war between the white people as the boys.
“Do the people from this country want to go south,” he asked, “just as the Chippewas from the North want to come into our Sioux country?”
“No, that isn’t it,” the trapper explained. “The white people of the South want to keep their black slaves, and they wish to have a country and a president of their own. They don’t like Abe Lincoln.”
When on the evening of the fourth day, the steamer whistled for the Fort Ridgely landing, the boys were glad to get off the boat, but felt very uneasy about the reception Cousin Hicks would give them.
“I wish we could go back to Vicksburg,” Tim whispered to his brother. “I am homesick.”
“Come on, boys,” Mr. Barker called in his pleasant, manly voice. “I’ll stay at your shack to-night, and if your cousin is at home, I’ll have a visit and a talk with him. Don’t forget your coon, Tim; I guess you will have to carry him if you want to take him home.”