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The matter was talked over with White Buffalo, and it was decided to remain where they were until Pontiac and Foot-in-His-Mouth returned for their horses. "They are bound to do thet, sooner or later," said Barringford. "By the way they tethered 'em I reckon they expect to come back shortly."

"Back again, I see!" cried James Morris cheerily. "And safe and sound, too! I am glad to see it." "We've had a powerfully good trip," answered Barringford. "Two buffalo, an' no end o' small game." "That is certainly fine. Boys, I reckon you are proud of the haul." "We are," answered Dave promptly, and Henry nodded. "Have you seen anything of Hector Bergerac?" he continued. "Yes, he is here now.

"We'll do our best to steer clear of it," answered his son. The evening of the first day found them in a territory that was entirely new to both Dave and Henry, although Barringford had been over the ground several times. Only some small game had been seen, not worth powder and shot, as the old frontiersman put it, and they made their evening meal from some fish which Henry managed to catch.

"I didn't expect no sech accident when I let ye go into the swimmin' match." "Did you go under, Henry?" "Yes, but I soon got myself loose," was the reply. "I was almost scared stiff when you didn't come up, Dave. After this we'll have to be more careful than ever." "It was wuss nor thet wildcat, I reckon," came from Barringford. "I should say so," returned Henry promptly.

"Are they much of a tribe?" asked Dave. "Only a handful. But my white brothers must beware of the Ninalicmics. They are of the magicians, and do great wonders." "They are a branch of the magicians who live up near the lakes," put in Barringford. "I've heard of them, but I thought they had cleared out long ago."

A further hunt through the forest revealed where something of a struggle had taken place between two white men on foot, but both were gone, and the trail was lost in an adjacent brook, down which one had fled and the other had likely followed, at least for a distance. The fact that he did not find the body of Sam Barringford gave James Morris hope.

"If the elk don't go off like a streak, Henry shall have the first shot," Barringford had said, and it was arranged that, all things being favorable, Dave should shoot next, if a second bullet was required. Barringford would hold himself in readiness for the unexpected.

A hunt had followed in first one direction and then another. As the storm came up Dave's horse was unfortunate enough to run into a mud reach close to the river, and it proved no light task to save the steed from being drowned. With the coming of night, Barringford had proposed that they go into camp, but Dave was too worried to do this, and urged that the search be continued.

When they felt able to do so, Dave and Barringford continued on the trip to Will's Creek, taking White Buffalo and some of his followers with them. The others of the party returned to the trading-post, anxious to learn if matters there were quiet.

The men gave a little cheer, and in two minutes the line of march was taken up, some sharpshooters and Barringford leading the way, with James Morris and Henry not far behind. Once again they turned into the mighty forest, heading now directly for the village of Shanorison. Mr. Morris was very anxious to push ahead with all speed, but the soldiers would not go beyond their regular gait.