The pass grew steeper. They slung the guns over their shoulders by the straps, and used both hands in dragging themselves up the ascent. They had to stop now and then to assist Millicent. Jan was puffing like a grampus. Millicent could hardly see why Ben had taken this course. From the spot where they stood they had a complete view of the valley and its occupants. It was already crowded by the Indian band, who were running about at will, peeping into the cabin, overturning camp-utensils and snapping the springs of some spare traps which had been left in the cabin. Ben looked in vain for the Frenchman. He had hidden somewhere on the first approach of the savages, and a number of them were scattered up and down, searching for him. It was clear they knew all about the camp, and the number of its occupants. Bentley was nowhere in sight, and Millicent began to hope. “They don’t seem to t’ar things much, as _yit_,” said Ben. “I expect to see the dry bones rattle pretty soon. They kain’t help but burn us out. It’s in the’r natur’s, the condemned critters. I wisht I hed about a hundred Crows here, I’d make the feathers fly in thet thar company, I would. Durn a Blackfoot!” “Vare pe Shule gone, Penn?” said Jan. “I not see ’im noveres. Unt vere ish Pentley?” “No more I don’t know, Dutchy. They’ve got into kiver som’ers. But they’ll nose them out, ye see ef they don’t. A Blackfoot is wuss then a hound on a cold scent. Lordy! they ain’t got no chaince! An’ fer my part, I don’t see whar they kin hev hid themselves. Thar ain’t no hole thet I know on.” “Vat ish de Injun doin’ mit de hoss?” demanded Jan. “Shpose dey _shteal_ ’im?” “Steal him! They’d steal the cents off’n a dead Dutchman’s eyes. Ye don’t know Blackfeet. I _do_. They ain’t wuth a cuss. I wouldn’t take the offer to buy out the hull tribe, ef I c’u’d git ’em for a beaver-skin. Not the hull tribe. The’r’ in a state of gineral cussidness thet is alarmin’. I kain’t go a cent on ’em. An’ ef they take that hoss, I’ll extarminate the hull tribe. Don’t look skeered, miss. I reckon the young man is safe hid.” “I dinks it would pe petter to keep avay,” said Jan. “I don’t dink it vould pe right to fite mit a dribe. I dinks dey vip us.” “Don’t ye believe it! I consider myself capable of cleanin’ out the entire tribe. I kin do it every time. I kin do it jest ez _easy_. What’s a little tribe of Injuns to a white human of my mental and moral caliber. I’m ez good ez a dozen missionaries, _I_ am. A missionary talks to ’em a while, an’ they listen tell they git tired, an’ then take his sculp. They’d take it before, only they kain’t understand a word he sez, an’ it don’t hurt ’em. Now I cum of a strong family, an’ that kind of moral suasion ain’t my best holt. I don’t reason with ’em thet way.” “How you do it, Penn?” “I put a ball right through the’r karkidges, an’ then I kin reason with ’em to great advantage. They understand what I mean.” “Vat ef he pe deat, Penn?”