At length they took up their pipes, which had been forgotten in the excitement, and refilled them with the intention of having a last quiet whiff before lying down.
“Ho!” exclaimed Redhand, who still continued to turn over the pages of the book, “here’s a face I know. Where saw ye that Indian?”
“I cannot easily tell where it was we met him; but I remember well that it was just a day’s ride from the spot where our horses were stolen.”
“Were there others with him?”
“No, he was alone.”
“Ha! at least he said so, I fancy.”
“Yes, he did; and I had no reason to doubt him.”
“You’re not used to the ways o’ the redskin, sir,” replied Redhand, looking meditatively at the fire. “Did he chance to mention his name?”
“Oh yes, he called himself Big Snake, at least one of my men translated it so.”
A significant smile overspread the old trapper’s face as he replied—