“Two-Horns-in-the-Bone go to old man. Him speak, him look in face. Old Indian, him Great Bear. Old medicine man raise face to sky. ‘The Great Spirit has spoken,’ say Two-Horns-in-the-Bone. ‘They who drink waters of Saskatchewan shall return before they die.’”
Toma’s voice died out. The young Indian seemed to be in another land, as he thought of his father’s people. Dick and Sandy sat spell-bound.
“It is the Legend of the Saskatchewan,” Dick said in a hushed voice.
“It sure was a good story,” said Sandy. “Tell us another one, Toma.”
But Toma shook his head. Dick and Sandy saw a certain sadness in his face, that the legend had aroused, and they did not urge him. Presently they rolled into their blankets. Once asleep, they did not awaken until summoned by Sergeant Brewster.
As they hurried from the tepee on the morning of that day which was to mean so much, an inspiring sight greeted their eyes.
The tepees of the Indian village were arranged in a hollow square, and in the midst of this were gathered more than fifty warriors, arrayed for battle.
“Isn’t it a fearful sight!” exclaimed Sandy.
“I’d hate to have them catch me alone in the forest,” Dick responded.
“They’ll help us do for Henderson,” Sergeant Brewster remarked at their elbow. “The spy came in an hour ago. He reports that Henderson has about ten half-breeds and thirty Indians holding the fort. They don’t dream of an attack. Henderson thinks Govereau is taking care of the police.”
“Did the spy find out anything about Uncle Walter?” Sandy queried anxiously.
“I was coming to that,” continued the sergeant. “It seems that Henderson has imprisoned him in a cave about a mile from the fort. The spy believes he can find the cave from what he overheard while inside the stockade. I’ll detail you fellows to go after the factor. But don’t leave until we’re sure we’ve taken the fort—that comes first. Toma and Malemute Slade will accompany, with the spy as a guide.”
They were interrupted by Malemute Slade and Constable Marden driving up with the dog team.
“Wal, boys,” grinned Malemute Slade, “we’re off for another tussle. As f’r me I can’t get to it too soon.”
Dick and Sandy laughed and fell into line. The band of Indians already had started out. They left the village amid the lamentations of Indian women and the loud barking of the dogs.