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“I hope he doesn’t try to follow me up,” said Dave to himself. “If he does it’s more than likely that redskin will see him.”

At length, after moving in several directions, the young hunter came to a spot that looked slightly familiar to him. He made a circle of the point, and finally recognized it as the very spot he had come to with White Buffalo when he and the Indian were on the way to the fort with little Nell and the twins.

“Well, I never thought I’d see this place again!” he murmured, half aloud. “I wish I had White Buffalo with me now. I’d feel a heap safer than I do.”

He now knew how to reach the fort, and resolved to follow that course until he should come to the point where the trail crossed that which he and Henry had taken after leaving the lake to go after the buffalo. Then he would follow up the buffalo trail to where his cousin had been left.

He tramped on and on, growing bolder as he saw nothing more of his red enemy. It was well past noon, and he munched some of the rations in his game bag, washing down the hasty meal with more water from a brook.