IT seemed too good to be true, and yet all doubt vanished with the words spoken by the Blackfoot.

“I can’t say I liked the way Black Elk acted when we first met,” said Victor, “but he has proved himself more of a man than I supposed. I hope now he won’t punish Young Elk for running away from me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I gave him enough. Anyway, whatever the father did to his boys has been already done, so we needn’t worry over it.”

“Mul-tal-la,” said George, “you haven’t any doubts left?”

“It is wrong to doubt; the words of Black Elk were true; he spoke with a single tongue. My brothers need not fear.”

“Why don’t those Shoshones of his come back and see us through the mountains? It strikes me that that is the right thing to do.”

“No; they will stay with the Cas-ta-ba-nas and hold them back if they try to do us harm. They will be with them till we are far away; then they can go back to Black Elk and tell him that all has been done as he ordered.”

“It is better than I thought,” said the pleased George. “I don’t suppose we are likely to run against any more of those people; if we do, we can fall back on these reserves.”

The Blackfoot silently led the journey for an hour longer. No one observing the surety of his movements would have thought he had been over the route but once before. Everything appeared to be as familiar as if he had spent his life in the mountains. The trail continued to ascend and soon became harder to travel. Several times it looked to the boys as if they would be checked and turned back, but their guide always found a course that permitted the passage of their horses’ feet.

“This is well enough,” finally remarked Victor, “but I don’t see the need of it. We did a good deal of traveling to-day, and if those Indians to the rear are friendly what’s the use of hurrying to get away from them?”

“I don’t think Mul-tal-la means to travel much farther.”

Even as George spoke the Blackfoot halted. He had been pushing on in order to reach the most favorable spot for camping. It was found near the base of a mass of black frowning rocks, from beneath which bubbled a tiny stream of ice-cold water. This formed a deep pool close to the rocks, and then dripped away in the gloom of the boulders, trees and undergrowth. The place was sheltered against the arctic winds which sometimes rage at this altitude, and indeed was so attractive that while our friends were gathering fuel and preparing for camp, they saw it had been used more than once for the same purpose by other hunting parties in the neighborhood.

Hardly had the animals been relieved of saddles, bridles and the pack, and the fire started, when the three were given a taste of the variable climate of that section. Although summer had fully come, the wind moaned and howled through the trees at the summit of the rocks and on their right and left. Suddenly Victor called out:

“It’s snowing!”

In a twinkling, as it were, the air was filled with blinding flakes, which eddied and whirled about the three and covered their bodies with its white mantle. The horses found protection by huddling close to the pile of stone, though the temperature was not very low.

The flurry passed almost as quickly as it arose. In a few minutes the air was as clear as before, and the moon shone from an unclouded sky. The friends gathered about the fire, which was soon burning vigorously.

It was the turn of George Shelton to go on guard for the first part of the night, changing places with his brother at the usual hour. Since this duty had to be divided among three persons, the Blackfoot would do his share in the early half of the following evening, alternating with George, while Victor would be given rest. This plan was kept up when Deerfoot was absent, so the division of the work was as equitable as it could be. When the party included four people the arrangement was simpler.

The action of Mul-tal-la removed any lingering misgiving the boys may have felt. Had the Blackfoot been distrustful of the honor of Black Elk, the Shoshone chieftain, he himself would have acted as sentinel for the first portion and probably throughout all the darkness; but, while the night was still young, he wrapped himself in his blanket and stretched out to sleep, Victor Shelton speedily doing the same.

Left to himself, George Shelton entered upon his task in his usual deliberate manner. The fire was replenished from the wood that had been gathered, and with his gun resting on his shoulder he marked out a beat over which he slowly tramped to and fro. At the middle of the course he moved in front of the fire, so that any foe lingering near could have seen him clearly, and, had he been so disposed, picked off the youth without risk to himself.

George at first felt a natural shrinking when he knew his form was shown in relief against the yellow background, but after the pacing had been kept up for an hour or so without molestation this feeling passed off, and his thoughts became tranquil. He often peered into the gloom which walled him in on every hand, pausing and listening, but hearing nothing unusual. His expectation was that some prowling beast would be attracted by the light of the camp-fire, but it was the summer time, when they were not likely to be pressed for food, and nothing in the nature of an attack was to be feared from wolves, bears or any species of forest creatures.

The youth looked up at the sky, which was clear and cold. The moon gave only slight illuminati............