"Now, for my part," he started to say, "I don't see why he should bother with a lot of tracks. Perhaps they are days old. What if the Sioux did try to hide the marks of their moccasins; they'd know the Mandans could tell from the tread that Sioux braves had been here, and, if they were just out on a hunt, it might be they wouldn't want to have any trouble with their old-time enemies."
"Yes, that might be as you say, Roger; but if you look close you'll see that it _wasn't_ days ago these tracks were made. No dew has ever fallen in this footprint, which would go to show it was not here at dawn this morning."
"Oh!" exclaimed Roger, "then, if these marks have been made since sun-up, that's a different story; and perhaps the Wolf does well to look serious. These fierce Sioux are a lot of fighters, they say. The expedition has had ever so much trouble with them while on the way. Now, if we have to leave here before we meet Jasper Williams, it will be too mean for anything."
"That must be as the Wolf says, and perhaps he can make us understand by motions what he thinks about it. There, see him bending down again over yonder, as if he had discovered something else. Those eyes of his are like a hawk's, and little can escape them."
"I wish he would hurry up then, and let us know the worst," grumbled Roger.
Dick was about to say something more, when the words seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth, for something remarkable had happened, something that was so utterly unexpected that he could hardly believe his eyes.
He saw a swift descending object fall directly upon the stooping Mandan brave, and bear him to the ground with the force of the collision. His first impression was that the assailant must be a hungry panther; and then he discovered that it bore more resemblance to a human being, although the two intertwined figures whirled over and over with such incredible swiftness that he could not make sure.
"Oh!" exclaimed Roger, as here and there dark figures began to drop, as though the thick branches of the overhanging trees were raining human fruit; and now it did not require more than one look to tell that these were feathered Indians, undoubtedly Sioux braves, who, seeing their approach toward the salt-lick, had laid this cunning trap to surprise them.