"Don't move yet, Chunky," directed Tad.
It was a wise command, for almost instantly the Indian glanced in their direction again, and, as if satisfied, emptied his pipe and stretched out on his blanket. The two lads breathed sighs of relief.
"Did he see us, do you think, Tad?"
"No. At first he thought he saw something up here, but he changed his mind after a little, as you observed."
By this time the redskins were cooking their midday meal, and the odor nearly drove Stacy frantic. It made him realize how hungry he was. He pulled a leaf from a bush and began chewing it in hopes of wearing off the keen edge of his appetite.
"How long we got to stay here?" he demanded. "I've a good notion to get up and walk back to camp. They don't dare hurt us."
"Lie still!" commanded his companion sternly. "I have a plan that we may be able to put into operation. We can't do it now, though."
The lads waited, Tad almost with the patience of an Indian, Chunky ill at ease and restless.
"Can't you lie still? What ails you?"
"My stomach's fighting my appetite. Hear 'em growl at each other?"