The Stonies had come by the right
hand trail and were now camped off the trail on a little sheltered bench
further down the side of the mountain and surrounded by a scattering
group of tall pines. Through the misty night their camp fires burned
cheerily, lighting up their lodges. Around the fires could be seen
groups of men squatted on the ground and here and there among the lodges
the squaws were busy, evidently preparing the evening meal. At one side
of the camp could be distinguished a number of tethered ponies and near
them others quietly grazing.
But though the camp lay only a few hundred yards away and on a lower
level, not a sound came up from it to Cameron's ears except the
occasional bark of a dog. The Indians are a silent people and move
noiselessly through Nature's solitudes as if in reverence for her sacred
mysteries.
"We won't disturb them," said Raven in a low tone. "We will slip past
quietly."
"They come from Morleyville, don't they?" enquired Cameron.
"Yes."
"Why not visit the camp?" exclaimed Cameron eagerly. "I am sure Mr.
Macdougall would be glad to see us. And why could not I go back with
him? My camp is right on the trail to Morleyville."
Raven stood silent, evidently perplexed.
"Well," he replied hesitatingly, "we shall see later. Meantime let's get
into camp ourselves.
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