Jack Dudley was awakened by the sound of laughter. Opening his eyes, he stared about him confusedly, unable for some moments to recall his situation. Fred Greenwood stood in front of him, shaking so much with mirth that he could scarcely stand.  
"O faithful sentinel!" he said; "how well thou hast kept thy trust!"
 
"I don't see anything to laugh at," replied Jack, rising to his feet and rubbing his eyes; "you would have done the same if you had been in my place."
 
"Perhaps I should, and then the laugh would have been on me. But we have cause to be thankful that, while no harm has come to us, we have had a good night's rest. I suppose you dropped into slumber almost as soon as I did."
 
"No, I didn't," persisted the elder; "I stood here a long time, but made the mistake of sitting down for a few minutes, just before it was time to call you. I ought to have known better, and shall never do the like again."
 
"Well, we have been fortunate and it has taught us both a lesson. Let's attend to our toilet and have breakfast."
 
They laved their faces and hands in the cold stream of clear water running near them, combed their hair, stretched and limbered arms and legs by a series of gymnastics to which they were accustomed, and then, returning to the mouth of the cavern, found, by raking over the ashes, that enough live embers remained to broil the venison more acceptably than any meal that had been prepared since coming to the region.
 
By that time Jack had recovered his usual good nature, and was as ready to jest as his companion over his dereliction of duty.
 
"I don't know what time it was when I fell asleep," he said, "but it must have been past midnight. The moon had risen over that high mountain yonder, and I was admiring the wonderful picture its rays made as they shot out over the lower peaks and lit up the chasms between. I never saw anything so beautiful."
 
"You ought to have called me to share the pleasure with you."
 
"I have no doubt it was time to do so, but I knew you preferred to sleep rather than look upon Niagara Falls or the Yellowstone."
 
"If so, I am not the only younker, as Hazletine says, who has such a preference. That reminds me, Jack, that it's mighty lucky we are not vegetarians."
 
"Why?"
 
"What should we do for our meals? So long as we stay in these mountains we must live on game. This seasoning that Hank was thoughtful enough to give us makes it palatable, but coffee, bread and a few vegetables would help a good deal."
 
"It doesn't make much difference, so long as we are blessed, or rather tortured, with such appetites as we have had ever since we struck Wyoming."
 
From where they sat at the mouth of the cavern they saw all three of their ponies cropping the succulent grass. It was evident that nothing could add to their enjoyment of this outing.
 
Naturally the boys speculated over the absence of their guide.
 
"He must have expected to spend the night with us. And, Fred, perhaps it will be just as well, when he does come, that we don't tell him how I passed the time when trying to act the sentinel."
 
"I surely shall not, unless he questions us so closely that we cannot help letting him know the truth."
 
"He will have a small opinion of us."
 
"Why of 'us?'"
 
"Because you would have done the same as I."
 
"That has not yet been proven."
 
"Well, say 'myself,' if that suits better."
 
"It is a very good amendment. I wonder whether anything can have befallen him?"
 
"He is too much of a veteran to make such blunders as we."
 
"That is true, and yet the most skilful hunter in the world is liable to accident. What's frightened the ponies?"
 
One of the animals had raised his head, with the grass dripping like green water from his jaws, and was looking off to the side of the plateau as if he scented danger of some kind. He was near the further boundary, thus being considerably removed from the boys, who grasped their Winchesters and rose to their feet.
 
"It's Hank's horse," said Jack, in an undertone; "the others do not seem to be interested in what disturbs him."
 
"And there comes Hank himself!" was the delighted exclamation of Fred, as they saw their old friend step into view from behind the rocks and walk with his peculiar silent stride toward them.
 
The movement of the beard under the broad sombrero showed that the guide was smiling, and doubtless he was as pleased as the boys over the meeting. He advanced with the same lengthy step and extended his hand with his hearty "Howdy?" to each in turn.
 
"Glad to see you, younkers; you seem to have got along as well without me as if I'd been with you."
 
"Nothing has come amiss; but, Hank, we're glad indeed to see you."
 
"Where did you git your breakfast?" he asked, glancing at the signs of the meal of which they had partaken.
 
"Oh, I thought it best yesterday afternoon to shoot a buck," said Fred, airily; "for the main thing for us to do in this part of the world is to look out that we don't starve to death."
 
"You shot a buck, eh? How was it?"
 
Thereupon the younger lad gave the particulars of the incident. Hank listened attentively, and when he learned of the part played by Motoza, the vagrant Sioux, his interest deepened.
 
"So that scamp is in the mountains? I s'pected it; he claimed to have shot the buck and wouldn't divide till Jack took a hand. Why did you let him have any of it?"
 
"Because he had the right. I thought it was my shot that killed the game, but the bullet only grazed one of his antlers; it was Motoza who killed the buck, and he was entitled to him. Have you been to breakfast?"
 
"Yes," replied the veteran, whose manner showed that he was displeased with the story he had just heard.
 
"Hank," said Jack, "why did Motoza give us any of the venison?"
 
"I don't know," was the unexpected reply; "I'd give a good deal to know."
 
"Do you suppose he was frightened when he found there were two instead of one to face?"
 
"It looks that way, but I can't believe it. The Sioux is a scamp mean enough to do anything; but he has grit, and I don't believe that two young tenderfeet like you could scare him."
 
"Perhaps he felt a respect and friendship for Jack because of what took place in the grove on the prairie," suggested Fred.
 
The boys expected their friend to ridicule this idea, but he did not. On the contrary, he admitted that it was the most reasonable explanation that presented itself; and because of this admission, both of the lads were confirmed in their faith that the right cause had been named.
 
"One of you stood guard last night while the other slept?"
 
The question was so abrupt that Jack's face flushed. Fred was silent, but his comrade thought the best course was to make a clean breast of it, and he did so. Hank won the gratitude of the boys by not uttering a word of reproof or showing any displeasure. More than that, he made the astounding comment:
 
"I'm glad you slept most of the night."
 
The two looked at him in astonishment.
 
"If the Sioux meant you harm, you gave him the best chance in the world. He carries as good a repeating Winchester as yours, and there was nothing to keep him from stealing up in the night and shooting you both; or, if he liked the knife better, it would have been the easiest thing in the world for him to wipe you out when your eyes was closed."
 
This was a view of the matter that had not presented itself to the youths, for the reason, as will be remembered, that they had accepted the friendship of Motoza as a fact.
 
"But he could have followed and picked us off when we were on our way here," suggested Jack.
 
"Yes, he's had all the chances he wanted."
 
"Then it's safe to set Motoza down as a friend?"
 
But Hank shook his head.
 
"The safest thing to do when an Indian is afore the house is to set him down as an enemy waiting for a chance to lift your scalp. That confounded Sioux is one of the cunningest imps that ever stole a white man's pony or helped to stampede a drove of cattle. Everything that he's done since we come into the mountains looks as if he was a friend to us all. I can't help saying that, but it mustn't be furgot that the whole bus'ness may be meant to close our eyes, and that he's got some deviltry in mind back of it all, that neither of you younkers has thought about."
 
"Have you thought of it?"
 
The hunter would not reply to this direct question except to say:
 
"We'll have to wait and see."
 
And so Jack and Fred were left as much in doubt as before; but, it may be added, with their belief in the friendship of the Sioux unshaken. They reasoned that their guide was so accustomed to seei............