Accordingly both of them halted just long enough to throw their long-barreled rifles to their shoulders, and glance along the sights. They could actually hear the savage snarls of the defiant pack. Roger, always a bit faster than his companion, was the first to fire, and with the crash of his gun the big leader of the pack sprang upward, only to fall back again with his legs kicking.

Dick’s gun spoke fast on the heels of the first report, and he, too, succeeded in knocking over the beast his quick eye had selected.

Then with renewed shouts, Dick and Roger once more started forward, but there was a hasty scurrying of gray bodies, and presently not a wolf remained in sight save the pair that had gone down before the deadly fire of the guns.

The Indian up in the tree dropped to the ground, and the boys saw immediately from his manner of dress that he was, just as Roger had surmised, a Sioux warrior. From the fact that he was bleeding in various places the boys understood that he must have put up a valiant fight at close quarters against his four-footed enemies, before finally seeking refuge among the branches of the friendly tree.

Naturally both lads immediately began to wonder why a Sioux brave should thus venture into the neighborhood of the Mandan village, since the two tribes had been at knives’ points for many years. Indeed, the preceding fall, when the boys had been aided by Beaver Tail and some of his Sioux warriors, who accompanied them later to their camp, it had required all the tact and diplomacy of which Captain Lewis was capable to prevent an open rupture between the old-time rivals.

“First we must make him let us look at his wounds,” suggested Dick, “because it is no child’s play to have the teeth of wolves draw blood. Some of his wounds look bad to me.”

“I think you are right, Dick,” agreed the other, always accustomed to leaving the decision to his cousin. “See if you can make him understand what we want to do. I’ll get some water in my hat, so you can wash the wounds.”

The boys always made it a practice to carry certain homely remedies with them, for in those pioneer days the family medicine chest consisted in the main of dried herbs, and lotions made from them, all put up by the wise housewife. Those who lived this simple life, and were most of the time in the open air, seldom found themselves in need of a doctor, and most of their troubles sprang either from accidents, or injuries received in combats with wild beasts of the forest.

So it was that they had with them a salve they always used to soothe the pain, as well as neutralize the poison injected by bites or scratches received in struggles at close quarters with carnivorous beasts.

The Indian was looking at them as though puzzled. Whites were rarely seen by the dwellers in these far regions beyond the Mississippi; indeed, most of the natives had never as yet set eyes on a paleface.