"Why?" asked Dick.
"Dot Irisher, I vould haf his legs run off alreaty," chuckled Fritz.
"I wish we knew for certain where he and Tom are," replied Dick.
"Berhabs they vould call on us this efening," said Fritz.
"Well, wondering won't do any good, so let's move along. The tribe are striking off along the trail, and if we want to go with them at all we had better hurry. These Indians are awful fast travelers when they want to be."
Dick and Fritz picked up the rifles they had borrowed from the Indians and set off after the party. The pace was swift and they were soon in the rougher and less traveled trails. The red men moved without any apparent effort and glided noiselessly along, yet covering the ground in very quick time. The women, although carrying light burdens, were just as accustomed to the trail as their masters, and made no complaint as they followed their leaders.
"If I should von of those red wimmins marry, yet, I vould do no more vork already," said Fritz.
"And I just hope that if you get anyone to take care of you for the rest of your life, that it's one of the kind that keeps you moving," replied Dick, laughing.
"Dot's just my luck wot is, to got von like it," grumbled Fritz.
"This is sure enough a rough path," said Dick, as they stumbled over the roots of a giant tree that stretched across the trail.