"There's sure something doing," he muttered. "Things look kinder ticklish."
Jesse decided that it would be wise to get away while the coast was clear. The troops were now well out of the way.
But his cogitations were rudely interrupted by a guttural grunt at the foot of the tree.
Jesse started.
He recognized the sound. No other than a redskin could give vent to an exclamation like that.
The desperado's gun came out in a flash. He peered down through the foliage, dimly making out the figure of a savage. Perhaps the Indian was alone, but more than likely there were others nearby.
The outlaw, adopting the policy of the savages, waited patiently for further developments. But all hope of the redskin not being aware of his presence in the tree, was shattered a moment later.
"Ugh," said the Indian.
"Great snakes," muttered Jesse.
"Jesse James, um up tree," announced the Indian stoically.