Tad glanced at his companion keenly;
"Getting cold feet, Chunky?"
"No!" roared the fat boy.
"I beg your pardon," grinned Tad. "I didn't mean to insult you."
"Better not. Look out that you don't get chilblains on your own feet. May need a hot mustard bath yourself before you get through."
They rounded the butte. A full quarter of a mile ahead of them flickered a large fire, with several smaller blazes twinkling here and there about it. Shadowy figures were observed moving back and forth, some with rapid movements, others in slow, methodical steps.
"There must be a lot of them, Tad."
"Looks that way. I wonder where we shall find the guide."
Both boys fell silent for a time, and as they drew nearer to the scene pulled their ponies down to a walk. Tad concluded to make a detour half way round the camp in order to get a clump of bushes that he had observed between them and the redskins. From that point of vantage he would be able to get a closer view, and perhaps locate the man for whom he was looking.
Riding in, they were soon swallowed up in the shadows.