The floor of the valley was about a third of a mile long and half as wide.  It was flat and covered with a growth of blue-joint grass as high as a man’s knee.

The whole place was like a large clean, green bowl flecked here and there with patches of bright crimson where the wild rose scrub grew in the hollows.

Ambrose, casting his eyes over the green panorama, was astonished to see at intervals around the sky-line little groups of men busily at work.  They appeared to be digging; he could not be sure.  One does not readily associate Indians with spades.  His guards pointed out the workers to one another, jabbering excitedly in the uncouth Kakisa.

They rode on through the upper entrance of the valley and plunged into forest again.  Another mile, and they came abruptly on the Indian village hidden in a glade just big enough to contain it.

It had grown; there were many more teepees in sight than Ambrose had counted before.  They faced each other in two long double rows with a narrow green between.  Down the middle of the green ran the stream, here no bigger than a man might step across.

Ambrose was unceremoniously thrust into one of the first teepees and, bound hand and foot, left to his own devices.  He managed to drag himself to the door, where he could at least see something of what was going on.  He looked eagerly for a sight of Nesis, or, failing her, one of the girls who had accompanied her on the berry-picking expedition, and who might be induced to give him some honest information about her.  He was not rewarded.

All who entered the village from the east passed by him.  Watusk and the rest of the people from the river arrived in an hour.

Here among safe numbers of their own people they recovered from their alarm.  Ambrose suspected their present confidence to be as little founded on reason as their previous terror.  Watusk, strutting like a turkey-cock in his military finery, issued endless orders.

At intervals the workers from the hills straggled into camp.  Ambrose saw that they had been using their paddles as spades.  A general and significant cleaning of rifles took place before the teepees.

At dusk two more men rode in, probably outposts Watusk had left at the river.  One held up his two bands, opening out and closing the fingers twice.  Ambrose guessed from this that the coming police party numbered twenty.

The last thing he saw as darkness infolded the camp was the boys driving in the horses from the hills.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE TRAP.

He shared the teepee with his six guards.  Sleep was remote from his eyes.  Nevertheless, he did fall off at last, only, it seemed to him, to be immediately awakened by his guards.

His ankles were unbound, and he was made to understand that he must ride again.  Ambrose, seeing no advantage to be gained by resistance, did what they ordered without objection.