"We haven't anything to spare," said Bob. He and the others had already learned that the more the red men got from the white travelers the more they wanted.
The Indians continued to beg for something and at last were given some beans and a small bit of venison. Then they turned their ponies and galloped away over the rocks.
"We are well rid of them," said Mark, with a sigh of relief.
"That is, if they don't come back," returned Maybe Dixon, dryly.
"Do you think they will?" questioned Si. "I shan't give them a thing more."
"I didn't like their looks," remarked Bob. "They seemed a treacherous lot."
They passed on until nightfall. It was very cold and they were glad enough to bring in such firewood as was handy and start a big blaze. Around this they huddled and cooked their supper.
"We'll be up against winter for certain putty soon now," said Maybe Dixon. "Maybe it will catch us afore we know it."
"Oh, I trust we get out of the mountains before it comes," answered Mark.
All were utterly worn out from the day's traveling and glad enough to lie down to rest. They found a little patch of brushwood growing among the rocks, and there proceeded to make themselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted. It was no soft bed, but it was the best to be found, and nobody thought of grumbling.