It took Tom two or three minutes to reason this out to himself, but at last he understood the drift of what his companion said. As the line through one toe and heel passed along the centre of the other, the foot must each time have been put down in a straight line, while if the footprints had been made by a person who turned out his toes they would never point straight towards those farther on.
"Well, what is your advice, chief?" Jerry asked.
"Must camp and eat," the Indian replied, "horses gone far enough. No fear here, red-skin gone on trail."
"Do you think there have been more than one, chief?"
"Not know," Leaping Horse said; "find out by and by."
Tom now noticed that Hunting Dog had disappeared.
"Where shall we make the fire?"
The chief pointed to the ashes.
"That's it," Jerry said. "If any red-skin came along you see, Tom, there would be nothing to tell them that more than one party had been here."
The chief this time undertook the collection of fuel himself, and a bright fire was presently burning. Two hours later Hunting Dog came back. He talked for some time earnestly with the chief, and taking out two leaves from his wampum bag opened them and showed him two tiny heaps of black dust. Jerry asked no questions until the conversation was done, and then while Hunting Dog cut off a large chunk of deer's flesh, and placing it in the hot ashes sat himself quietly down to wait until it was cooked, he said: