'Yes, I was at the fight, you bet,' replied Dick, 'and did what I could with this here handy little instrument; but I'd like to have had my six-shooter. Howsomdever, there ain't many Crows to kill now; we surprised them beautifully;' and the old man almost smacked his lips over the grim memory. 'If my brothers are ready,' said Warwolf when even Towzer had finished eating, 'we will start. As it is, we shall hardly reach the Crows' camp by the Lone Mountain before nightfall.' 'Right you are, Warwolf,' said Dick; 'come on. Here, young 'un, you get up on "the Cradle."' It now appeared that the Indians had two more led horses with them, on which Dick and Frank mounted. In spite of their previous exertions all were eager to reach the Crows' encampment, a hope of plunder urging on the Blackfeet, whilst the voice of hope, which never dies out in the human breast, kept whispering to the other three that it might just be possible--just possible--that Snap still lived. CHAPTER XXVI SNAP'S STORY It was in the grey of the morning, at that mysterious time when the earth is just beginning to think about awaking--before there is any sunlight in the sky--although the shamefaced whiteness of the stars suggests that a greater light than theirs is coming. All was still misty and undefined, a land of shadowy dreams, and the camp of the Crows was silent as a cemetery at midnight. The tall teepees, or tents of deerskin, looked white and ghastly, and the long fringes of scalp-locks which ran down their seams and fluttered from their poles whispered vaguely horrible things to that little chill wind which always precedes the dawn. By-and-by, if anyone had been listening (and surely the Crows should have had some sentinels about), a bird began to move restlessly among the dry leaves, which he rattled as noisily as if his wee body was as big as an elephant's. With a quick querulous chirp he fluttered away, and from time to time another bird woke, chattered, and followed him. Then it seemed to the pale morning star which was watching the camp, and which no doubt has seen many such sights before, that some of the trees were double, for one stem stood still whilst another parted from it, flitted for a moment across an open glade, and then disappeared. Presently these moving trees grew plainer, flitting hither and thither, swift and silent-footed Indians, or the ghosts of Indians, their long hair adorned with eagle-plumes and their lithe red bodies nearly naked. Then a heavier and better-dressed figure appeared, and three or four Redskins gathered round it. Bending down and listening, the star heard Wharton (for it was he) whisper to Warwolf: 'No! no! my brother, creep in like catamounts. These Crows are cunning as Satan, and like enough them deserted-looking tents is full of braves waiting to shoot you down as you charge. Scatter and come in on all sides separately, so as not to give 'em a solid lump to fire into.'