“Bad! bad!  Young braves no think when kill runaway steers.  Never more can happen after this.  Send skins to pay when get um.  Glad get meat for squaw and pappoose.”

That was the extent of his remarks.

“I guess Injuns ain’t got much of a supply of words,” remarked Will aside to Bluff.

“But he means all right.  I like the old chap’s looks.  Come along, Frank, and tell us all about it.  You look like you’ve been in a fight.  Say! the reds didn’t tackle you, did they?” exclaimed Bluff.

“One did; a little chap about hip-high.  Ho was out trying to snare a jack-rabbit, when he found me.  I’d taken a header down over a root, and was lying in a state where I didn’t care whether school kept or not.  He led me to their camp, and Jerry found me there later.  That’s all of it in a nutshell.  Now I’m going to have Mr. Mabie wrap up my hand and take a look at my head, for it still rings.”

After an examination, the ranchman declared that there was nothing serious the matter.

“It may take a few days for that lump to subside, and these cuts to heal, but you came out of it better than an old fellow like me could have done,” he said, and Frank felt relieved.

“What are you going to do with Running Elk?” he asked.

“Send him back to his people with some food.  Then he will carry this letter to my foreman, who will look after the party until we get back.  After that I’ll see to it that Pierre is taken care of and the chief recalled to his own.”

“I knew you would.  I told the old fellow that, but he was sore afraid that you could never forgive what his young braves had done a year or two ago.”

The old Cree chief soon departed, with a grin on his face, and his arms full of bundles.  He might have been proud, but there were hungry mouths to feed, and for their sakes he must forget that he should die sooner than beg favors.

Frank felt rather stiff and sore on the following day.  He was satisfied to hang about camp, and let his chums do the hunting, for once.

Jerry could not be restrained, for his sporting blood demanded that he keep going all the while.  Will was just as eager to do his style of shooting, and even wandered down the river to get a view of the Cree teepee before the family of Running Elk broke camp.

Bluff took a notion to try fishing, and with considerable success.  Later in the day Frank also wet a line, and between them they managed to secure a decent mess of fat trout for the whole party.

When Jerry came in he reported that he had had a shot at an elk, but failed to stop his flight.  He also declared that he had seen what he believed to be a wolf skulking through the timber.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” said the old stockman, when Frank looked questioningly at him.  “The pesky critters like to hang around here, looking for a nice calf that happens to stray away from its mammy’s side.  Winter and summer, it’s all the same to them, so long as we don’t get after the pack too hot.  Never lose a chance to knock over a wolf, my boy.”