“It never will be, I reckon,” returned Larry, with a laugh.
Having visited all the points of interest they sauntered slowly back to the chief’s teepee, where they found Wandering Bear and the half-breed sitting in exactly the same positions.
CHAPTER VII
THE FIRST CAMP
“White man and Indian are brothers,” remarked Wandering Bear, solemnly, on the following morning. “Indian always friend of white man. White man give him much presents; Indian show him big game; where fish is plenty. Yes, always much friend now.”
Breakfast was over. The crowd, with the exception of Larry, to whom the situation was so novel as to prevent him from sleeping with any degree of soundness, had spent a comfortable night.
To Tom Clifton’s great satisfaction, Teddy Banes announced his intention of remaining at the Cree village.
“Good! That old sour-face would be enough to take all the fun out of the trip,” said the aspirant for football honors. “Acts awful queer, doesn’t he?”
“At times he did hand out a few awful knocks, if that’s what you mean,” grinned Larry.
He glanced at the sky, in the vast expanse of which not a fleck of cloud could be seen. Every indication pointed to another sunny, sizzling day; and, anticipating the discomfort before him, the lad made a wry face.
“What’s up?” demanded Tom.