“No, I don’t think that was it. I can’t remember just what it was, but somehow I have it in my mind that that spy battalion under Major Dement was to be sent over to this part of the country somewhere. They may not be at Kellogg’s Grove itself, but they ought to be around here, some place.”
“Maybe they’ll meet Black Hawk’s war party coming the other way,” exclaimed Robert excitedly. “I wish we could be with them.”
“It seems to me you are always looking for trouble,” said John Mason, smiling broadly at the eagerness of the red-headed young frontiersman.
“Well, it has to come some time,” explained Robert. “These Indians simply have to be beaten before the war can end. The sooner it is over with the better it will be. That’s the way I look at it.”
“That’s very true,” agreed Mason. “You don’t have to be in it though, do you?”
“Of course I do,” Robert insisted. “I want to feel that I had a part in winning the war. You must also remember that Joe and I have an account to settle with Mr. Black Hawk.”
Mason had no answer to this remark and as no one else offered to say anything the ride was continued in silence for some time. Over the rolling prairies they went, the scenery sometimes varied by a grove of trees or a patch of woods. Mile after mile they covered and no trace of the enemy appeared. Deerfoot evidently knew the country thoroughly, for when they had gone a certain distance he turned abruptly east.
“Kellogg Grove there,” he exclaimed pointing ahead of him as he spoke.
It had been decided that a halt should be made there on the way back just as had been done on the outcoming journey.
“Good!” cried Joseph heartily, in response to Deerfoot’s remark. “I feel hungry and know I shall appreciate a little food.”