Of course it was easy for the Indian to understand that they wished him to accompany them to their camp, where he would receive food and attention. He simply gave a guttural grunt, nodded his head, and fell in behind Dick, after the customary Indian method of traveling in single file. Then they moved along, Roger bringing up the rear. Little was said while they tramped onward, heading for the camp. Dick occupied himself with making sure that he held to the right direction. He also found much food for thought in the startling information that Beaver Tail had taken the pains to send all these miles to his young friends. In due time they came in sight of the camp where the expedition had passed the preceding winter. Rude cabins had sheltered them from the cold and the snow, both of which had been quite severe in this northern latitude. Some distance beyond lay the Mandan village, always a source of deepest interest to the two boys. It contained so many strange things, and the lads had never become weary of trying to understand the ways of these "White Indians." (Note 4.) Upon seeing the boys come in with a strange Indian in their company, many curious glances were cast in their direction. Going straight to the cabin where the two leaders of the expedition lived, the boys were fortunate enough to find Captain Lewis busily engaged in making up his log for the preceding day, though of course there was little that was new to record. To the surprise of the boys the Sioux Indian produced another bark scroll from his ditty bag, which he handed to Captain Lewis. This fact convinced Dick that the brave must have been with the party in the fall, for he seemed to know that the white man he faced was the "big chief." "What does all this mean, my boys?" asked the captain, looking puzzled. "We met with an accident in the rapids, and had to swim out," replied Dick. "Then, on the way back to camp, we came upon this Sioux brave in a tree with a dozen hungry wolves jumping up at him. We chased the wolves off, and looked after his wounds, when to our surprise he handed us this message from his chief, Beaver Tail." The captain examined the picture writing with considerable interest. He had been taking considerable pains since mingling with the Mandans to understand their ways, and this crude but effective method of communication had aroused his curiosity on numerous occasions. "Read it to me, if you managed to make it out, Dick," he told the boy, who only too willingly complied. The captain frowned upon learning that, despite his solemn warning, the French trader had returned to the neighborhood. That look boded ill for François Lascelles, should he ever have the hard luck to be caught in the vicinity of the camp.