"It'll be funny if he isn't."
"You mean it'll be a tragedy."
But their fears were groundless for in less than an hour from the time they had reached the woods the Indian announced that supper was ready. Venison steak and potatoes baked in the camp fire constituted the main part of the meal and both boys declared that nothing had ever fasted better. The Indian seemed pleased at their words of praise and urged them to eat until both declared that they could not get another mouthful down. They washed the dishes in melted snow water which had been heating in a large iron kettle set in the hot ashes.
It was now pitch dark and a light wind had sprung up during the last half hour.
"You think it's going to storm?" Bob asked a little later as they sat by the fire.
"Oui, Injun 'fraid so."
The wind had been increasing slowly, but steadily and now the moan of the trees, as their tops swayed to and fro, filled the night. For an hour or more they sat by the fire while, at Bob's invitation, the Indian entertained them with stories of his early life. He was a good story teller and they listened with bated breath as he told of one adventure after another.
"Time to sleep now," he finally declared.
"I reckon," Bob agreed.
"You think it'll snow before morning?" Jack asked as he got to his feet.