Three days of inexpressible tedium followed.  Had it not been for Job, Ambrose felt he would have gone out of his mind.  His window overlooked the teepee village, and his sole distraction from his thoughts lay in watching the Indians at work and play.

His jailers put up a teepee outside the shack.  There were never less than three in sight, generally playing poker—­and with their guns beside them.

Ambrose knowing the inconsequentiality of the Indian mind guessed that they must have had strong orders to keep them on guard so faithfully.  Any thought of escape was out of the question.  He could not travel a hundred and fifty miles without a store of food.  He sought to keep out a little from every meal that was served him, but he got barely enough for him and Job, too.

On the fourth day the arrival of the main body of Indians from Fort Enterprise created a diversion.  They came straggling slowly on foot down the hill to the flat, extreme weariness marked in their heavy gait and their sagging backs.

Only Watusk rode a horse.  Every other beast was requisitioned to carry the loot from the store.  Some of the men—­and all the women bore packs also.  This was why they had been so long on the way.

True to their savage nature they had taken more than they could carry.  As Ambrose learned later, there were goods scattered wantonly all along the trail.

Ambrose naturally anticipated some change in his own condition as a result of the arrival of Watusk.  But nothing happened immediately.  The patient squaws set to work to make camp, and by nightfall the village of teepees was increased fourfold.

In the motionless twilight each cone gave a perpendicular thread of smoke to the thin cloud that hung low over the flat.

As the darkness increased the teepees became faintly luminous from the fires within, and the streets gleamed like strings of pale Japanese lanterns.  Ambrose, expecting visitors, watched at his window until late.

None came.

In the morning he made the man who brought his breakfast understand by signs that he wished to speak with Watusk.  The chief did not, however, vouchsafe him a call.

To-day it transpired that the Indians were only making a temporary halt below.  After a few hours’ rest they got in motion again, and all afternoon were engaged in ferrying their baggage across the river in dugouts and in swimming their horses over.

On the following morning, with the exception of Watusk’s lodge and half a dozen others, all the teepees were struck, and the whole body of the people crossed the river and disappeared behind the hill.  All on that side was no man’s land, still written down “unexplored” on the maps.

Thereafter day succeeded day without any break in the monotony of Ambrose’s imprisonment.  He occasionally made out the portly figure of Watusk in his frock coat, but received no word from him.