"I can hear nothing of them," he remarked, resuming the upright posture; "I am quite hopeful that that party will molest us no more."
"It won't do to count on it," were the wise words of his wife.
"I think you had better dismount and lead your pony," said the rancher; "we can mount again when through the wood; there will be less danger from the trees and limbs, and you and Dot must be cramped from sitting so long."
He helped them to the ground. It was a relief indeed to both, for they had kept their places on the back of the horse for a number of hours. Dot yawned, stretched her limbs, and felt as though nothing would delight her so much as a frolic in the snow. The thoughtful mother had provided her not only with thick, strong shoes, but with heavy stockings, leggings, and warm clothing, with which she was well protected against the storm that was impending when they left their home.
Nothing could have better shown the childish innocence of her nature than her action in slyly removing her mittens, stooping down, packing a wad of snow with her hands and flinging it against her father's face, with a merry laugh.
"Gracious, Dot! how you startled me!" he said, looking around at her.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No; but don't speak or laugh so loud, for some of the bad Indians may be near."
"I forgot about that, but I'm going to hit Jerry, for he is so lazy he needs it."
And the indolent animal received a tiny whack from the snowy missile projected by the chubby hand of the child. He seemed to think, however, that it was no more than a snowflake, for he did not give even an extra wink of the eye.