CHAPTER IX.
BOB IS SENT HOME.
It was strange sounds coming out of the mists that had drawn the lads' attention. They were not kept long in suspense as to the nature of the noises, for it soon became plain that they were human voices, one shrill and piercing, the other deep and guttural. Nearer they drew, until out of the white vapor loomed a huge, grotesque object, which gradually resolved itself into a big covered wagon, drawn by four gaunt oxen. In the front of the wagon sat an Indian woman, urging the weary beasts on with whip and shrill cries. Behind the wagon walked a huge, powerful Indian, closely followed by a mass of pigs, cattle and goats, which were urged on from the rear by a pack of mongrel dogs, of all sizes and colors. With much squealing of pigs, barking of dogs, and cries from the squaw, this strange equipage came to a stop in front of the camp.
The two boys advanced to the road to meet the visitors.
"Hello," Walter greeted them.
"Hello," returned the Indian. "No can get by big machine?"
"No," said McCarty, "I'm afraid you can't. Machine right in road, deep ditches both sides, plenty mud. Back one mile is a road that circles around the machine. You understand?"
The Indian nodded comprehension. "No can find road at night. Me camp here."
"All right," Walter assented. "When you get unhitched, come over to camp fire and have something to eat."