“I don’t know what ails the foolish things.  I know that I fed the horses; and as for Ringwood and Jowler, I’ll soon kick them out.  Let go my ankle!” exclaimed he, turning to Sneak, who caught hold of him as he rose to approach the door.

“Don’t open the door yet,” said Boone, who had been listening to the sounds outside, and then continued in an under tone, addressing Glenn:  “They are certainly here; but whether or not with an evil intent I am unable to determine.”

“Oh goodness!  It’s the Indians!” exclaimed Joe, yielding to sudden alarm, having momentarily forgotten the anticipated danger when he proposed opening the door.

“Keep your mouth shet!” said Sneak, listening with his ear placed near the floor behind the door.

“How many do you make them out to be?” inquired Boone, when Sneak had occupied his position a few minutes.

“It’s all right!” replied Sneak, eagerly; “there is only two or three of ’em, and old Roughgrove’s out there talking to ’em!  How do you open the door?  Let me out!”

The door was opened with reluctance and cautiously by Joe, and Sneak going foremost all the party sallied out into the fresh air.  A snow of several inches in depth had fallen, and within the circle enclosed by the palisade not a single track was to be seen.  But when the gate was drawn back, several Osage Indians were observed standing a few paces distant with their tomahawks hung in their belts and instead of exhibiting any symptoms of hostility, they approached smiling, and extended the hand of friendship to the whites.

“How do!” exclaimed the leader, in imperfect English, grasping the hands held out in salutation, while his actions were imitated by the others in silence.

“I’m very well, I thank you,” said Joe, bowing and retreating backwards when they accosted him, unwilling to venture his hand within their reach, as Glenn and the rest did.

“Shake hands with them, you silly fellow,” said Boone, “or they will think you are an enemy.”

“Here, Mr. Osage!” said Joe, his teeth chattering as he extended his hand; and the Indian, perceiving his alarm, squeezed it so tightly for merriment that he was on the eve of crying out; and when liberated, he sprang violently back, much inclined to run away, to their great amusement.

“That is Raven, the chief,” remarked Roughgrove to Glenn, pointing to the one that first addressed them, and who was now conversing with Boone, whom he seemed to know, or to have been familiar with his character, from his animated gestures and the excited expression of his features.  Sneak stood in silence, a convenient distance apart, apparently gleaning intelligence from the conference.  The chief (as are the members of this tribe generally) was extremely dark, tall, athletic, and wore a ferocious aspect, while the few followers with him manifested a curiosity to examine the apparel and accoutrements of the whites, but without betraying any signs of an evil disposition.