“Why not?”
“Because it warns us of our danger.”
“Thar’s a heap of sense in what ye say, younker; that would have been the way of it, if the rider hadn’t dashed into ’em afore he knowed it, and afore they could slip out of his way; so they tried to shoot him from his saddle; beats all natur’ what poor shooters most of the varmints are.”
Shagbark glanced at the two.
“I’m powerful glad to see you both awake; I’m going to sneak out a little way on the perarie where I kin see furder than from hyar. So don’t shoot off yer guns ontil ye’re sartin it ain’t me but a redskin.”
Having given these instructions to each of the sentinels, Shagbark set about the task he had in mind. It certainly was risky, for, while he might count upon avoiding any collision with the red men, it was quite likely that some of the sentinels in their nervousness would fire upon the first glimpse of him. Be that as it may, the thought gave him little concern.
Jethro Mix stole back to his place on the other side of the wagon. A big scheme had flashed upon him, and he wished to turn it over in his mind.
“Wish I war dat Pony Expressman,” he muttered; “he’s gwine so fast dat de Injins won’t get de fust glimpse agin ob him. I’d like to be one ob dem riders, if I could allers keep riding toward St. Joe. What’s to hender me sneaking Jilk out from de oder critters an going like blazes fur de Missouri riber?”
That was the thought which had taken possession of him.
“Ef I kin git a good start dere ain’t any animal in dis crowd dat could ketch us, and when I arroves at St. Joe, it’ll take a double team ob horses to pull me away again.”