"But he means all right. I like the old chap's looks. Come along, Frank, and tell us all about it. You look like you've been in a fight. Say! the reds didn't tackle you, did they?" exclaimed Bluff.
"One did; a little chap about hip-high. Ho was out trying to snare a jack-rabbit, when he
found me. I'd taken a header down over a root, and was lying in a state where I didn't care whether school kept or not. He led me to their camp, and Jerry found me there later. That's all of it in a nutshell. Now I'm going to have Mr. Mabie wrap up my hand and take a look at my head, for it still rings."
After an examination, the ranchman declared that there was nothing serious the matter.
"It may take a few days for that lump to subside, and these cuts to heal, but you came out of it better than an old fellow like me could have done," he said, and Frank felt relieved.
"What are you going to do with Running Elk?" he asked.
"Send him back to his people with some food. Then he will carry this letter to my foreman, who will look after the party until we get back. After that I'll see to it that Pierre is taken care of and the chief recalled to his own."
"I knew you would. I told the old fellow that, but he was sore afraid that you could never forgive what his young braves had done a year or two ago."
The old Cree chief soon departed, with a grin on his face, and his arms full of bundles. He might have been proud, but there were hungry
mouths to feed, and for their sakes he must forget that he should die sooner than beg favors.