“Some chaps are awful stubborn,” complained Tom. “Honest—I don’t believe they’d change their ideas even if you could prove ’em to be in the wrong.”
The fit of laughter which seized Larry at this statement made Wandering Bear and his grandson regard him with mild surprise.
“Come,” invited Thunderbolt. “I show you village.”
Leaving Wandering Bear calmly puffing away on his long-stemmed pipe and Teddy Banes sitting motionless with his back resting against the teepee, the lads promptly followed the young Indian.
It was a very novel sensation to the big blond lad to find himself wandering about a real Indian village. And the picturesque groups of red men sitting around the fires, with the ruddy glow over their blanketed forms, or moving here and there, now caught by the beams of light, then disappearing in the shadows, interested him about as much as anything could, considering his state of mind and aching bones.
Before one teepee Thunderbolt stopped to introduce the boys to Sulking Wolf, whose stock of English consisted of three words: “How you do!”
“Very well, thank you,” said Larry. “It’s an awful dark night, isn’t it?”
“How you do!” answered Sulking Wolf, gravely.
“Listen!” cried Tom.
The sound of hoof-beats coming from their left had attracted his attention.