There was vast comfort in this knowledge. It relieved the youth from the last remnant of anxiety, and he lost no time in abandoning himself to slumber. The man who was now acting as sentinel was a past master at the art, and there need be no misgiving while he was on duty. Thus it came about that neither Jack Dudley nor Fred Greenwood opened his eyes until the sun was shining into the grove. Each had had a refreshing night, but it cannot be said that their awakening was of the most pleasant nature. The hunger that had been twice satisfied the day before was not to be compared to that which now got hold of them. With the insatiate craving was the knowledge that there was not a scrap of meat, a crumb of bread nor a drop of milk in camp. "We can fill up on water," remarked Jack, after they had bathed faces and hands and quaffed their fill. "But what good will that do? We might bubble over, but we should be just as hungry as ever." "It seems to me that when a fellow is chock-full of anything he oughtn't to feel much hunger." "I've often thought that, but you can't fool nature that way." "If it gets any worse we can shoot the ponies and devour them." "Why both of them?" "Because it would take a whole one to satisfy me. I don't know how _you_ feel, Jack, but if we are to have appetites like this I shall go in for buying a drove of cattle and spending the few weeks we have in these parts in eating." The youths looked in each other's face and laughed. Truly they were ahungered, but could never quite lose their waggishness. "I wonder what's become of Hank," suddenly exclaimed Fred, looking beside and behind them; "the fire is nearly burned out, and he is nowhere in sight. HALLOOH!" The hail was uttered in a loud voice, and was responded to, but from a point a considerable distance out upon the prairie, in the direction of the foot-hills. The open nature of the wood permitted the boys to see quite clearly in that direction. "Yonder he comes," said Jack. "And, by gracious, he's carrying something on his shoulders. I wonder if it is that Indian you chatted with last night." "Better than that. It's _something to eat_!" Jack Dudley was right. The guide was laden with the carcass of some animal. Its bulk was proof that he possessed an accurate idea of the appetite of these young gentlemen. "How careless in him to leave us thus alone," remarked Fred, with mock reproof. "Do you wish he hadn't done so?" "Don't name it!" exclaimed Fred, with a shudder; "he knew the only way of saving our lives. It wouldn't have done for him to postpone it another hour." Hank Hazletine was never more welcome than when he entered the grove and let fall from his shoulders the carcass of a half-grown calf, plump, juicy, tender, and in the best of condition. "I don't s'pose you care much 'bout it, but I feel like having something worth while for breakfast," he remarked, proceeding to prepare the coals, for he had dressed the veal before starting on his return.