But in spite of their semi-civilized garb, all three had cruel, savage faces and eyed the tethered ponies with gluttonous eyes. As Ralph watched them, the one with the frock coat drew out a bottle and handed it in turn to his two companions.
“They’re Bloods and they’ve got hold of fire-water some place,” murmured Ralph. “We’re in for more trouble now, and I left my rifle in the cave!”
He crouched back among the alders, wondering if Jim was aware of what was going forward outside the blockaded cave. So far the Indians had not seen him, and Ralph was not particularly anxious that they should.
CHAPTER XXII.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH “BLOODS.”
The Indians appeared to be in no hurry, and from the fact that the carcass of a deer lay across the back of one of their ponies Ralph judged that they were a hunting party. But the appraising glances that they cast at the tethered ponies were by no means reassuring.
They looked about them cautiously for a time, and exchanged some hasty words in their guttural dialect. Then the one who wore the odd-looking frock coat and the eagle feather slipped from his pony and approached those that were tied.
It was high time to interfere apparently; but still Ralph hung back. Unarmed as he was, he was unwilling to show himself until actual necessity called for it. But when the frock-coated Indian deliberately began to unknot the tie ropes of their ponies his intention was only too plain and the boy cast all prudence aside.