"It has been."
"Then, perhaps you had best get out the other implements of warfare for our young gentlemen. It will keep them busy until supper time, furnishing something new as well."
With a knowing grin, Lige went to the cook tent, soon returning with an armful. At first the boys glanced at the bundle curiously, then with more interest as it began to assume shape and form to their eyes.
"What—-what——" stammered Tad.
Stacy, whose eyes were wide open, was the first to recognize the articles, and as he did so, Lige dumped them on the ground.
"Bows and arrows," cried the boys, performing a grotesque war dance about the weapons.
"We'll be real Indians now, won't we?" chortled Chunky.
"They are only playthings," sniffed Ned. "What good are they when we have real rifles?"
"You'll find these bows and arrows real enough," answered the guide. "They were made by Indians, and some of them have been used by Indians, not only for hunting, but against men as well. A shot from one of those arrows might put an end to any one of you fully as quickly as would a bullet from one of your thirty-eights."
"Shall we help ourselves?" asked Ned.