They had stopped to talk it over. All of them were in need of a breathing spell, at any rate; and this might turn out to be a matter well worth investigating.
The patrol leader shook his head in the negative.
"Just the same with me, Jack," he returned. "I'm mixed up enough not to be able to say what it means, though I've got an idea they may be telling the parties at the mine what they expect to do. But we haven't thought of one chance we've got to read the message."
"What might that be, Ned?" asked Frank.
"I don't reckon that you're carrying a lovely little code book along with you, now; that'll tell all about the different ways people have of signaling with smoke puffs?" Jimmy wanted to know.
"Perhaps Tamasjo might tell us," was all Ned said; and his simple explanation caused a general look of eager curiosity to be turned in the direction of the Cree Indian.
Why, to be sure, Tamasjo had been born and raised in this Northern country, and very likely he had communicated with his own people many a time, when returning from a hunt, and by just such means as those men over on the Harricanaw were now using.
How silly that some one had not thought of the old Cree before. It was as simple as turning one's hand over. Jack chuckled when he heard Teddy mutter to that effect; because he remembered that when Columbus returned, after discovering the Western Hemisphere, the envious Spanish courtiers made remarks along the same lines. It is always easy to see a thing after it has been pointed out.
Frank was already turning toward Tamasjo. He found the Indian standing there calmly watching the floating columns of smoke that were interrupted frequently, as those responsible for their existence manipulated the blankets over the fires.
"What do they say, Tamasjo?" asked Frank.