“What do you think, Jerry?” he said. “I take it they have come in the back way over the old Porcupine Trail.”
Jerry grunted approval of the suggestion.
“Then we can go in from the canyon. It is hard going, but there is less fear of detection. They are sure to be in the Big Wigwam.”
Jerry shook his head, with a puzzled look on his face.
“Dunno me.”
“That is where they are,” said Cameron. “Come on! Only two miles from here.”
Steadily the throb of the medicine-drum grew more distinct as they moved slowly up the canyon, rising and falling upon the breeze that came down through the darkness to meet them. The trail, which was bad enough in the light, became exceedingly dangerous and difficult in the blackness of the night. On they struggled painfully, now clinging to the sides of the gorge, now mounting up over a hill and again descending to the level of the foaming stream.
“Will they have sentries out, I wonder?” whispered Cameron in Jerry's ear.
“No—beeg medicine going on—no sentry.”
“All right, then, we will walk straight in on them.”