They now crept forward till they were within easy shooting distance of the camp, and then Rocks paused once more, putting his lips close to Frank's ear, and whispering: "See them rocks down thar?" The boy nodded. "Wa-al, jest you creep down behind them an' take yer position ready ter sling lead." "What are you going to do?" "Git inter ther camp. I'm goin' ter walk in from t'other side, so they'll be lookin' fer any further danger frum thet quarter. Don't git impatient, fer it'll take me some time ter git round thar. Wait easy." "I'll wait." Then the old man crept away into the darkness, and Frank began working his way down to the rocks. He finally reached the position, and there he waited, being able to look into the camp and see every figure revealed by the flaring fire. The little girl was there, exhausted by the day of hardships, sleeping soundly. One of the Indians had thrown a greasy blanket over her, so she was protected from the night air, which is always chilly in Yellowstone Park. Frank's heart throbbed with sympathy as he gazed down on her. "Poor little Fairy!" he thought. "How she did cling to me! I am ready to wade through fire and water for her. We will save her to-night if we live!" He found it difficult to restrain his impatience as the time crept slowly away and Old Rocks failed to appear. Some of the Indians rolled themselves in their blankets and prepared to sleep. Others sat and smoked in grim silence. Frank had spotted Half Hand, and he felt that it would be some satisfaction to send a bullet after the villainous half-blood. "He is at the bottom of this business," thought the boy. "He would not hesitate at murder." Nearly an hour passed after Old Rocks crept away before the guide appeared. At last, to the astonishment of Frank and the utter consternation of the Indians, the man seemed to rise up in the very midst of the camp, as if he had suddenly sprouted from the ground. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE RESCUE. A yell of astonishment broke from the throats of the Indians who were awake, and it brought the sleepers out of their blankets in a moment. With the utmost coolness, Old Rocks stepped toward the fire, sat down on a log near the sleeping child, and took out his black pipe. "Any o' you fellers got any good smokin' terbacker?" he asked, coolly. "I ain't got northin' left but chawin', an thet's derned pore stuff ter burn." "Ugh!" grunted the Blackfeet, staring at him in unutterable amazement. "Hey?" questioned the guide. "Whut did yer say?" "Where white man come from?" demanded Half Hand, harshly. "Over yon," was the answer, and Rocks made a sweep of his hand that took in half the horizon. "What white man want here?" "Terbacker." The Indians looked at each other, and then looked at the cool visitor, their amazement not a whit abated. "Ugh!" they grunted in chorus.