"All right. They can't do any more than beat us if they do catch us. We'll tell the other fellows."
They sidled along, until they could tell their partners.
"I'll go," Fat Bear's spunky brother agreed at once. "If they try to catch us we'll fight 'em off with clubs and rocks. Who's afraid of the old men? We'll make their tongues hang out."
"I'll go, you bet," agreed the fourth, also. "My folks need me. I'm sick of playing Injun."
"Well, we'll all lie down to sleep; and in the middle of the night I'll wake you up," proposed Buck Elk.
"Sure?"
"Sure. Now don't let's talk any more."
At dark the camp went to bed. The two old Indians were sound sleepers. About midnight Buck Elk softly turned; he had not slept a wink. He nudged the next boy, the next boy nudged the next, and the nudge was passed on. They softly slipped, one after another, from their blankets. The two old Indians never stirred. In the star-light the four hastily grabbed what food they could; and leaving White Eagle and Singing Bird lying there they tiptoed away, on their silent moccasins, into the forest.
Fat Bear led. He was a good woodsman. Soon they ran; and they ran and walked fast until daylight, traveling with their backs to the North Star. Then the sun guided them, until about noon, when they had to stop and rest.
"How far, you think?" panted the fourth boy.