These words have scarce passed the lips of the young prairie merchant, when their effect is counteracted by an exclamation. It comes from Walt Wilder, who has been acting as guide to the party.
“Dog-goned!” he cries; “not the shadder o’ a chance. They ain’t goin’ to give us till night. I knewed the Horned Lizard ’ud be after some trick.”
“What?” inquire several voices.
“Look whar that lot’s stannin’ out yonder. Can’t ye guess what they’re at, Frank Hamersley?”
“No. I only see that they have bows in their hands.”
“An’ arrers, too. Don’t you obsarve them wroppin’ somethin’ round the heads o’ the arrers—looks like bits o’ rags? Aye, rags it air, sopped in spittles and powder. They’re agoin’ to set the waggons afire! They air, by God!”