"You must be careful," said Joseph Morris, when they were ready to depart. "Don't run any chances, but turn back at the first trace of anything wrong."
The journey back to the Morris homestead was quickly made by the pair, and to their satisfaction they found the greater portion of the building standing. A fire had been started at a corner of the living room, and the apartment was much damaged, but that was all. The cattle shed had been swept to the ground.
"Not so bad but what it might be worse," said Barringford, gazing around. "Thet cabin can be fixed up in a week's time, to my way of thinkin'."
"If they don't come back some day and finish their work," returned Dave. "This attack isn't over yet, Sam, no matter how quiet it is just now."
"You are right, Dave, but I reckon the next attack will be on the forts, and not on the homes o' the settlers. The Injuns will be after big game."
They were inspecting the cabin when they saw an Indian approaching. It was White Buffalo, and they saw at a glance that he was far better dressed than before, and looked in the best of health.
"I'm glad to see you, White Buffalo!" cried Dave.
"White Buffalo glad to see Dave so well, and his brother Sam, too," answered the aged chief.
"I suppose you understood how it was that we left you in the woods," came from the old frontiersman.
"Yes, White Buffalo wanted it so," was the simple answer.