"Me leave since sunset. Bob fix best can," and saying this the young Indian pointed down at his injured limb.
"Do you mean that you have been with my brother since the fire?" cried Sandy, his face lighting up with a great joy, for that would tell him Bob could not have been injured in the forest conflagration, as he had greatly feared.
Blue Jacket nodded gravely in the affirmative. English words did not come readily to his lips, and, when he could make a gesture take their place, he seldom failed to do so.
"Bob find in creek. Him help 'long. Leg bad; much limp. Blue Jacket make like papoose. Get here just in time. Not much good. Ugh!" he grunted.
"Then Bob came along with you?" persisted Sandy, determined to drag the whole truth out by degrees.
"Come 'long, yes. No think safe enter village. Hide in woods. Wait till fox him bark three times. Bob know. Bob safe!"
"Hurrah! that's good news you're telling me, Blue Jacket!" exclaimed Sandy, exultantly. "So Bob is safe, and near at hand right now! Why, he never even went back to the settlement to tell the story, and get assistance. Surely he is a brother to be proud of. Tell me, Blue Jacket, did he send any message by you? Have you got any of the white man's writing to give me?"
Whereupon the other gravely drew something from the bosom of his torn hunting shirt, and extended it to Sandy.
"Me forget. Bob say all right. No can understand spider crawl on bark. Sandy know. Bob tell," he said quaintly.
There were not many words, and these had been scratched by some sharp-pointed flint, so that it was only with an effort that the boy could make them out by the light of the fire in front of the lodge.