Hank seemed to be having a hard time of it and made more noise than was his wont. Alarmed, Tom was about to crawl out and help his friend to the corral when Hank's querulous complaint barely reached him. "Danged if ye ain't so plumb full o' buffaler meat ye nigh weigh a ton," growled the hunter. "Yourn as heavy as mine, Jim?" "Wuss," complacently answered Ogden. "Huh!" snorted another voice, crowding so much meaning into the grunt that he had the best of the little exchange and the last word. "If I could twang like you, Hank," said Ogden, pausing a moment to rest, "I'd have a hull dozen, danged if I wouldn't. Mine's got nigh ter six feet o' feathers a-hangin' ter him." Tom rocked back and forth, laughing silently. "Then he makes up fer th' rest o' yer dozen!" he gasped. "Hostages, by th' Great Horned Spoon!" He made some funny noises in his throat and gasped again. "A _chief_, too!" "An' a plumb waste o' good ha'r," growled Hank. "But jest now it's wuth more on thar heads than fastened ter our belts. Hyar, haul this hyar warrior o' mine under th' waggin. I'm all tuckered out." "Hank kin shoot more arrers with his mouth than some Injuns kin with thar bows," panted Jim, grasping a spoke and yanking his captive roughly against the wheel. "All I kin imitate is a lance." He chuckled at his joke and rested. "When Hank twanged, Big Polecat, hyar, got right up an' stumbled plumb over me," said Zeb's weary voice. "I near busted his skull with that newfangled pistol. It's heftier than I'm used ter. Wonder is I didn't bash his brains out. Hyar, gimme a hand, I can't hardly wiggle no more." "Wonder what them danged fools air firin' at?" queried Hank, as several shots rang out in quick succession from the other side of the encampment. "Don't they know th' dance is over till mornin'?" "Oh, them greenhorns'll be shootin' all night," growled Ogden. "If thar's a rush at daylight they won't have no more powder an' ball. When they hadn't oughter shoot, they shoot; when they oughter shoot, thar too danged scared to pull trigger." CHAPTER XIII HURRAH FOR TEXAS At daylight the only Indians in sight were several rifle shots from the caravan, but encircling it. Hostilities of every nature apparently had ceased, but without causing the travelers to relax in their vigilance. Breakfast was over before the savages made any move and then a sizable body of them came charging over the prairie, brandishing their weapons and yelling at the top of their voices. While not the equals of the Comanches in horsemanship they were good riders and as they raced toward the encampment, showing every trick they knew, the spectacle was well worth watching. "Showin' off," said Jim Ogden. "Want ter talk with us. Now we got ter stop them fool greenhorns from shootin'!" At his warning his companions ran along the line of wagons and begged that not a shot be fired until the captain gave the word. If the Indians wanted a parley the best thing would be to give it to them.