After eating, they made another march. When the sun was low, Lieutenant Pike pointed to some trees a long way ahead and told Lieutenant Wilkinson to march the men to that place. He beckoned to Stub. “Come with me?” he asked. Stub nodded. He and Lieutenant Pike and Doctor the medicine-man went off by themselves, scouting up a creek. Lieutenant Pike was still looking for the Spanish trail. They all looked and looked, but did not cross it. The lieutenant sighted some buffalo; he and the medicine-man gave chase, and before Stub reached them they had killed two. That was good. They took the tongues, and left a coat on the carcasses, to keep the wolves away; but when the three rode hard, to get to camp before dark, there was no camp. The Lieutenant Wilkinson men had not gone to the trees. Now everybody was lost! After searching about and speaking angrily, Lieutenant Pike ordered camp. It was lucky that they had taken the buffalo tongues, because now they might make a fire and cook the tongues. What had become of the Lieutenant Wilkinson men seemed very queer. Early in the morning Lieutenant Pike led up the creek, from the trees, and did not find them. The three arrived at the spot where the two buffalo carcasses were lying. The wolves were eating the carcasses, in spite of the coat, but there were marrow bones left. Next, the lieutenant led down the creek. Not even the smoke of any campfires might be seen, and there were no pony tracks or footprints. Stub used all his eyes, but discovered nothing. At night the lieutenant and the doctor were much worried. “Injuns, mebbe?” Stub asked. Lieutenant Pike nodded gravely. “I fear so. We will hunt more to-morrow.” That night it rained, and in the morning was still raining, cold. But they had had plenty to eat. This day they rode and rode, up the creek again, in the rain. “It is bad,” said the doctor. “A long way from home. Only four shots left. No trail, no men, nada (nothing). Indian country. We look one more day; then we find the river Arkansaw.” “Go to ’Nited States?” Stub queried. “Cannot tell. The Great Father sent us out. We are men; we hate to go back.” “Mebbe they there, on Arkansaw. Injuns chase ’em.” “Maybe. But it is bad. Maybe Injuns chase us, next.” “We fight,” declared Stub. And the doctor laughed. “You’re all right. We’ll do our best, eh?” Stub had ten arrows; the lieutenant and the medicine-man each had four loads for their guns. That was not much, in a fight. Early in the morning they again rode, searching up the creek, with their eyes scanning before and behind and right and left. When the sun was halfway to noon, they saw two horsemen, coming from the south. Indians? No! White men――soldiers! Lieutenant Pike cried gladly, and fired his gun, in signal. His face had been dark and stern; now it lighted up, and they all galloped for the two men. Lieutenant Wilkinson was only three miles south, on the Arkansaw. “What! The Arkansaw?” Lieutenant Pike repeated.