While the two boys had been holding their lonely watch at the camp prior to setting forth the following morning on their disappointing search, matters of serious moment were taking place at the encampment of Mighty Hand and his brother Dacotahs.

Thunder-maker's triumph had been complete. The savage mind seldom looks for a simple explanation of anything that surprises him. When the unusual is not understood, he does not search for a simple and natural explanation. He immediately flies to the supernatural and attributes to good and evil spirits actions that a little common sense would have readily explained in an everyday way.

The Medicine Man of a tribe is different from others of his race. He is the brainy exception of craft united to common sense, and he uses[Pg 83] these to best advantage for his own interests. Thunder-maker's method of divining was very simple after all—nay, even childish. We have seen it performed by redskin jugglers, as we have also seen the same effects produced by Arab diviners on the Syrian desert.

The explanation is found in the fact that serpents are exceedingly sensitive to blows. A cut with an ordinary willow wand is usually sufficient to break the spine and disable all but the monsters of the class. At the same time, although the first blow may daze a snake, it is some time before the final effect takes place, and the creature will wriggle about for some time after having been struck, while its energy is practically nil—that is to say, it merely lives without possessing any real strength.

Now, Thunder-maker's cunning was well aware of all this, and when he dropped the rattler from his teeth he was careful to do so in such a way that the creature would touch the ground with considerable violence. Then he allowed it to wriggle about until in time its head faced the Englishmen. That was the moment for which he had waited, and immediately he started forward with a cry that startled the snake into still[Pg 84] fear. A few passes with his hands fascinated the creature long enough for the Medicine Man to show the Indians that the creature was undoubtedly pointing in the direction of the captives, and when that was done the crafty redskin had achieved his purpose:

The serpent had divined whom the sacred totem of the tribe had called that day.

Then Thunder-maker had replaced his assistant in the linen cloth before it revived sufficiently to commence wriggling again, and, perhaps, point its supernatural head to some one else.

Both Arnold and Holden had observed how Mighty Hand had been wavering between reason and superstition until the intervention of the Medicine Man had caused superstition to take the uppermost place. A moment before, and the chief would have released the captives and sent them back to their camp in charge of a guide. But the art of Thunder-maker had stepped in to convince the people that the sacred totem of their tribe had been calling that day, and that it was the Englishmen for whom it called.

Why?

Ah, that was what the strangers found inexplicable. Of this, however, there was no doubt:[Pg 85] their arrival had been at a most unfortunate time, when some answer to the supposed call of the totem was then expected. They were that answer, and the result—who can say what the consequences would be when falsehood and superstition had a savage people at command?

So the Englishmen were requested to return within the teepee that had been reserved for their prison. But, curiously enough, they were not treated in any way after the traditional Indian mode of treating prisoners. They were not bound; no guard was placed at the entrance, though sentries were placed round the camp of which the prison teepee was the centre. The best food that the Indians possessed was supplied to them, as well as a sufficiency of fur robes to sleep upon. All the same, in spite of these kindnesses and other thoughtful attentions, there was no room for doubting that they were prisoners who were not to be allowed any opportunity for escape, and the men could only accept the present situation in a philosophic spirit, and await the course of events with such patience as they could muster.

As the day passed, and darkness fell upon the forest, the Englishmen stretched themselves upon[Pg 86] the robes, while in whispers they tried to arrive at the solution of the mystery and form some sort of plan for future action.

"It's all owing to that scoundrel Thunder-maker," Arnold said. "If he had not stepped in, Mighty Hand would have released us. I could see by his face that he was favourably disposed towards us."

"It is a serious business," said Holden.

"Serious enough for us, for there is no knowing what may happen when people get mixed up with native superstitions. At the same time, what I worry about most is the boys."

Holden sighed at the thought of Bob and his son Alf being alone at the deserted camp.

"Yes," he said. "It will be hard on them if anything happens to us—miles away from civilised habitations. Of course, I don't give up hope of coming out of this right enough in the long-run, and we may be worrying over very little after all. But meantime—the boys—I wonder what they are doing now?"

At this question the elder man gave a slight laugh.

"You wonder?" he repeated. "I don't think you need go very far for the answer if you[Pg 87] haven't quite forgotten our own schooldays. What would you and I have done if two of our chums had disappeared from camp as we did?"

"Gone to look for them," was the prompt reply, to which Arnold resumed—

"And I think there's not so very much difference between Arnold and Holden pères and fils. You take my word for it: at this very minute the youngsters have summed up the situation and are planning a rescue expedition, if, indeed, they have not already set out. Neither Bob nor Alf is the sort of chap to sit still and moan at such a time."

"Yes, I believe you are right. Neither of the youngsters would allow himself to be knocked over by the first difficulty. And they would know that some accident must have taken place, for we promised to be back at camp by dinner-time."

"All the same, we don't want them to be mixed up in this affair in the event of their coming on our track," said Arnold. "We must contrive to prevent that, but—— Hullo! Who's this?"

A dark outline had suddenly filled the space at the opening of the tent at this juncture, but the Englishmen were not left long in doubt of the nature of their late visitor, for a voice addressed them in Indian accents.[Pg 88]

"Thunder-maker would speak words of counsel with his white brothers."

"Oh, he would, would he?" returned Arnold, and his companion added—

"There was very little friendship about Thunder-maker this afternoon."

The Indian gave a low laugh, as though he were thoroughly enjoying some secret joke.

"There are days when hunter's path must be straight; there are days when crooked trail lead him where he find much deer. To-day—crooked trail. But Thunder-maker friend. He would speak in ear of white brother—low, soft. Thunder-maker wise man. He speak words of wisdom to his friends. But—none may hear but pale-face."

"By that you mean that............