“So long as they do not injure Jasper it will not matter much,” Roger admitted.
“If they have not hurt him up to now I do not think anything is going to happen before night comes around,” Dick told him.
As there was nothing more to be arranged Mayhew managed to tell the chief that they gladly accepted his offer of assistance, and placed themselves wholly in his hands. Perhaps the artful frontiersman, knowing the nature of all Indians, managed to convey more or less flattery in his speech. At any rate Beaver Tail gave evidences of being greatly pleased by it, and even went around shaking hands with the three palefaces, in the same way he had seen the head chief, Running Elk, do on a former occasion.
It was a fortunate thing for the exploring expedition that members of their party had been able to make friends with this tribe of the powerful Sioux nation so early in their invasion of the hunting grounds of these Western Indians.
Dick and Roger had shot a savage panther that was about to leap from the limb of a tree upon an old Indian squaw and a little girl. Later on, when the boys found themselves prisoners of the Sioux, this squaw, who turned out to be a sister of the great chief, Running Elk, and the child Dove Eye his own daughter, saved their lives; and from that time on the Sioux, at least that particular tribe, were on friendly terms with the explorers.
Accompanied by that host of fighting warriors, Dick and his party pushed on into the east for several hours, not trying to make any fast time, however, since they were in no particular hurry to arrive before evening.
“If you have been taking notice of the fact, Dick,” Mayhew remarked, as he drew alongside the others, “we have our backs full on the westering sun.”
“Yes,” Dick returned, “I did take note of that, and it tells us you were right; the lake, and the camp of the Frenchmen as well, lie straight to the east.”
“Look up, Roger; what do you see?” demanded the guide.
“Our old friends, the crows, flying in flocks, all in a straight line, and heading into the sun. Listen to them cawing; but somehow or other the sound doesn’t ‘rile’ me as it did before. In fact, I rather like to hear it, because I can fancy they are saying: ‘You are on the right track, the camp is only a little way ahead, and good luck to you!’”