They first watered their horses, taking care to conceal them behind some overhanging linden branches, so that they might not be seen from the other side of the lake. Both the trapper and Tatanka agreed that it was not at all likely that any Indians would be in hiding on the shore of this small lake.
“They are scattered in all directions, killing people and making booty,” Barker gave as his opinion. “But it would not surprise me if toward evening some of those marauding parties would come along to stop here for the night.”
The afternoon furnished again a great trial of patience for the boys. For a while, the care of their horses and catching frogs for Meetcha occupied them. Then they picked a few choke-cherries, but these did not allay their growing hunger, and the trapper would not let them pick the laden bushes on the outside of the timber.
“It would be gross carelessness,” he said, “to betray our presence in that way. The man who wishes to carry his scalp out of an Indian war must not take chances. I’m also afraid that you boys would get sick if you filled up on choke-cherries; you had better starve awhile.”
As the heat of the day decreased, the mosquitoes became very annoying. Both lads were tired and sleepy from the excitement of the day, but there could be no thought of sleeping. They had to keep off the hungry insects with pieces of green brush.
The Indian and Barker had each gone to one end of the timber to watch for unbidden guests, while the boys were on guard in the middle of the margin of the timber.
When at last the sun was approaching the horizon, it seemed to the lads that it was several days since Mr. Barker had told them to roll up their blankets and come away.
When the sun was turning red, Tatanka came back from his watch and gave the call of Bob-White. The boys at once forgot all fatigue and ran to their horses.
“Indians, from the east,” Tatanka whispered. “We must get away. I will take Mehunka’s horse to him.”
The trapper, although nearly sixty years old, sprang into the saddle like a young man, when his three friends met him at the western point of the timber.
Before they doubled a low hill, which would hide the lake from their view, Tatanka stopped behind some box-elder bushes.