Yes, their guide was heading straight for a thick clump of bushes under the trees, and, from the looks of things, they fancied they were at the end of the tramp.
The Wolf turned his head then to make a gesture, and nod, just as if he wanted them to understand that they had arrived. Then the three crept forward, a foot at a time. Roger almost held his breath with the suspense, although accustomed to hunting in all its branches. Would they discover any kind of wild animal there, licking the salty rock; or were they fated to be disappointed?
Still, even though there happened to be no game in sight, that was not saying their chance would not come a little later. All they would have to do would be to conceal themselves, and wait, when perhaps a deer, or a buffalo, would appear, bent on gratifying the taste for salt that holds such a strong fascination for most four-footed animals.
Another minute, and they were eagerly peering through the thick bushes. They could see where the lick lay, for it was in the open, and the ground all around had been trampled by many hoofs.
Roger heaved a sigh of disappointment, for there was no sign of antelope, buffalo or any wild animal. On his part Dick felt a keen sense of chagrin, but from another cause; he had secretly hoped to see the form of a white scout lounging in the open, and that would mean, that their long search was at an end, with the much sought Jasper Williams before them. But it was not to be.
The Wolf, if also surprised not to find game there, after all their labor in making such a skillful advance, showed no signs of disappointment. He had doubtless learned early in life that a warrior must never give way to such feelings. When things do not come his way it is his business to keep plodding along until the tide changes, for everything comes to him who waits, even game at a salt-lick.
There was no longer any reason why they should crouch in an uncomfortable attitude. It was just as well to straighten up, relieve their tired muscles, go forward and examine the lick; and then, when the mood seized them, find a new hiding-place, where they could lie in wait.
“Come on, Dick, let’s see what the old thing looks like,” Roger remarked, as he stepped out from the screen of bushes.
Both the Mandan brave and Dick followed at his heels, for the latter was also curious to investigate. He had never seen a salt-lick, although told about such places by his father, as they were more plentiful away back in Kentucky than along the Mississippi. And it repaid them for the trouble they had experienced in making this stealthy advance.
It was easy to see where the salt rock cropped out from the ground. In several places animals had actually worn a hole in it with their rough tongues. Their hoofs had also made various trails in front of each exposed salt rock, and Roger could easily see how a hunter, lying concealed in the bushes within a short arrow-flight of the spot, would be able to bring down his game. No doubt many a tragedy had taken place there, and Roger could picture them in his mind while examining the surroundings.