“I sort of recall something about them,” agreed Robert. “How far from here is their house, Deerfoot?”
“Six miles.”
“We’ll reach there early in the morning then, won’t we?”
“Daylight,” said Deerfoot. “We stay here half-hour, then go on again.”
“When ought we to reach Dixon’s Ferry?” asked Joseph.
“Tomorrow, mebbe. Mebbe next day,” grunted Deerfoot, and rolling over on his back the Indian immediately fell asleep.
“Look at that,” exclaimed Joseph. “He is just like a dog and can go to sleep whenever he feels like it. I wish I could do it.”
“It’s all practice,” said Robert. “Deerfoot has been trained to it all his life and that’s why he can do it now.”
“Well, you and I had better try to rest, too,” said Joseph, as he stretched himself on the ground beside Deerfoot.
“Suppose we all go to sleep and no one wakes up in a half an hour?”