“Now don’t you go too fast, boy,” Bob said to the dog, as he told him to go find Injun.
Sicum started off with a yelp of joy, and in spite of Bob’s warning, they had hard work to keep him in sight or hearing.
“Wish I’d had a leash to put on him,” Bob panted, as he called the dog back for the twentieth time.
Their course led them straight back from the river into the forest, and before they had gone far the ground began to rise, and the going became more and more difficult as they advanced.
“Does this hill have any top, I wonder?” Rex panted, as he pulled himself up by a bush. “I really believe we’ll be up in the clouds before long if we keep on going.”
It was nearly two hours since they had left Jack, and they were still climbing, when they heard the dog a few yards ahead give voice to a bark which Bob was quick to interpret.
“He’s found him,” he cried, as he hurried on closely followed by Rex.
A moment later they reached the spot where the dog was jumping frantically about, and, for the moment, they could scarcely believe their eyes. There, securely tied to a small spruce tree was the Indian. Over his head was a meal sack.
“Of all things!” Bob gasped, as he sprang forward. “Kernertok!”
But the old man made no reply, and Bob’s heart nearly stopped beating, as the fear came to him that his old friend was past help.