“This beats the kingdom!” cried Dave. “Henry, that Indian must have been on hand when the tornado occurred!”
“Like as not he was watching us.”
“And maybe he was going to kill us.”
“The finding of that hunting knife makes it look that way, Dave.”
“Perhaps there are more near by.”
The two young hunters looked around without delay—Henry holding his rifle ready for use, should a warrior appear. They were greatly upset and did not quiet down for half an hour.
“He must have been alone,” said Henry, at last. “Where he came from there is no telling. Well, if he was going to kill us, it was a lucky thing that the tornado came along as it did and stopped him.”
They continued their search in the snow and among the fallen trees, and presently uncovered Dave’s rifle and the rest of the traps, and also the last of the rabbits. This they spitted over the fire and ate for breakfast.
“Now we may as well get back to the fort—before another storm overtakes us,” said Henry.
“What about the Indian?”