Ten minutes later both had been rescued from their predicament. They were shivering from exposure and fright, and the first thing the boys did was to make a small fire in a depression amidst the rocks, over which some water was heated, and a pannikin of tea brewed.
When the men had eaten something, and washed it down with liberal portions of the hot tea, Roger could hold back no longer. He wanted to learn what had happened, and how they had become separated from Jasper Williams.
The men had evidently been through a rough experience, and seemed to have lost all inclination to proceed any further into the unknown country of mysteries. Indeed, from certain words that they had dropped, it was plain nothing could induce them to return. They meant to head directly toward the camp near the Mandan village.
This being the case, Dick was anxious to learn all he could before the separation came about, and so he did not attempt to chide Roger on account of the other’s impatience when he burst out with:
“Now please tell us what it was all about, and who pursued Jasper Williams at the time you saw him last?”
Hardy seemed to be the best talker, for it was he who answered.
“The Indians came down on us when we were not expecting an attack,” he explained, looking somewhat humiliated, for a frontiersman was apt to feel a blush of shame when compelled to admit that for once his vigilance had relaxed.
“Were you in camp at the time?” asked Roger.
“Yes, close to the river,” Hardy continued. “We had been seeing some wonderful things, and Jasper seemed to believe there were others even more amazing beyond. Then, like a bolt out of the clear sky, they dropped down on us. Some sprang from the bushes, while others appeared on the river in canoes made from dugout logs.”