"Planting guns? I don't understand."
"It's an amazement truly," put in Barringford. "We won't know what it means until—"
"Until what, Sam? Do you feel like following into the cave?"
"I shouldn't mind if I knew the directions Pontiac gave to that other redskin. But without them directions a feller might lose his life easy enough in the attempt. He might have told him to turn to the left or the right, or somethin' like that, you know."
"True enough. Well, what do you advise?"
The matter was talked over with White Buffalo, and it was decided to remain where they were until Pontiac and Foot-in-His-Mouth returned for their horses.
"They are bound to do thet, sooner or later," said Barringford. "By the way they tethered 'em I reckon they expect to come back shortly."
An hour passed, and Dave was growing tired of the watch, when White Buffalo, who lay beside him, gave his sleeve a quick jerk and nodded toward the waterfall. As the young hunter looked in the direction he saw a sudden movement, and Pontiac emerged on the rocks, dripping wet. An instant later Foot-in-His-Mouth followed, and both climbed down to the side of the pool.
"They have been on some sort o' a mission," whispered Barringford. "Wonder what's next?"
Untying their horses, Pontiac and his companion turned them up the slope leading to the stream above the waterfall. Here the pair consulted for some time. What was said neither White Buffalo nor those with him could make out. But soon Pontiac rode off in one direction and Foot-in-His-Mouth in another.