“No more than I do,” said Joseph.
“I must confess,” continued Robert, “that I don’t like this business of traveling all night and never knowing when an Indian may jump out from behind some tree and tomahawk me.”
“Well,” said Joseph, “when we reach Dixon’s Ferry we’ll be all right. I wonder how many troops are there and what they intend to do?”
“I’ve no idea. We’ll know when we get there.”
“If that ever happens.”
“You’re getting as bad as I am,” laughed Robert. “Let’s not be so discouraged. Deerfoot will bring us through all right.”
“Do you think he knows what is going on at Dixon’s Ferry?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell us if he did.”
“Evidently the Indians must have been causing trouble for some time,” remarked Joseph. “Otherwise the governor wouldn’t have sent soldiers after them as soon as this.”
“That’s right, I guess,” Robert agreed. “Probably that band which attacked us was only a detachment of the main body. It was undoubtedly the same one that burned the Scotts’ home and started this fire, too.”