They waited until the cowboy joined the circle about the tree.
"Boats, Reddy?" asked Mr. Mabie.
"Three. Must have carried around the falls without our knowing it. Hung
about here, waiting to steal something from our camp. Had a snare set
for jack-rabbits. Saw some torn skins in the camp," was what the cowboy
replied, in his jerky way.
"Oh! Then I guess they must have been here before we came, and all you
say makes me believe I was right. They have no arms, or else their
powder and shot have run out; and for some reason they are afraid to
meet whites. Well, the elk's gone, and we can't mend that. Let's return
to camp. You have the tail to show for your little adventure, my lad."
"Yes, sir; and the memory of it all, which will haunt me for a good long
time," said Bluff, with a shake of his head, as he contemplated the
historic tree around which he had done a little Marathon.
"But I mean to get a picture of this tree, anyhow, just to remind Bluff
how valuable a good pair of sprinting legs may be sometimes," laughed
Will.
And he did, with Bluff standing alongside; for once the official
photographer demanded a pose, he was bound to get it, or throw up his
job, for such was the law of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.
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