“Here is the brave who is going to take you to the salt-lick,” he remarked, as a Mandan warrior came up, carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows, as well as a small pouch made of fine otter skin, in which he kept his paints and other essentials that went with the office of a messenger brave. “I have given him to understand that he will be held accountable for your safety; and, when you both come back unharmed, he is to receive several handsome presents. His name stands for the Wolf That Howls in the Night; but you can just know him as the Wolf. And now, good-by to you both. We shall be glad when you come back with Williams.”
The valiant explorer shook them warmly by the hand; then, as the Indian glided silently away, the boys followed in his wake, filled with fresh hopes that both sincerely trusted might not be doomed to disappointment.
CHAPTER XXVII
AT THE SALT-LICK
“It seems as though we were foolish not to have brought our horses with us, Dick,” Roger said, when noon had come and gone, and they were still pressing on at the side of the Mandan brave, mostly through timber.
“Yes,” replied his comrade, “I’ve been sorry more than once that we made up our minds to let the poor beasts have a rest, while we were gone on this little hunt for Jasper Williams. But as the Wolf expected to travel afoot, I thought it would be all right.”
“But you know he’s used to tramping it, day after day. He’s a strong man, and his muscles are like iron; while we’re only boys, you see, Dick.”
“Still, we’ve gone through more than a little in our time, Roger,” the other rejoined.