At the first glance, he jerked back as if he had caught the flash of a rifle aimed at him, for the sight that he gazed upon was startling enough.  Within ten feet of him sat an Indian warrior, his knees gathered up, his back against the arch, and his head bowed as if in slumber.

The lad’s first supposition was that the redskin was waiting for him, and had seen his head as it was thrust forward and drawn back again.  But, as he listened, there was no sound to betray any movement, and when he recalled the terrifying picture that caught his eye, he remembered that the face of the warrior was not turned toward him, so that it was hardly to be supposed that he could have observed the stealthy movement.  By carefully considering the matter and reassuring himself, Fred soon gained sufficient courage to repeat the attempt.

This time, after pushing his head forward enough to see the red-skin, he held it motionless sufficiently long to take in the entire picture.

The first thing which impressed itself upon his mind was the fact that the Indian was not an Apache, or at least, did not belong to the trio which had had him in charge.  His dress and make-up were altogether different, and he clearly belonged to another tribe.  The truth of it was, he was a Kiowa, and his attitude was that of a sleeping person.

A dirty blanket was gathered about his shoulders, and his head, with its straggling horse-hair covering, drooped so far forward that the line of the face was at right angles with that of the chest.  The up-drawn knees were separated enough to permit a long, gleaming rifle to rest between them, the barrel partly supported by the shoulder, with the stock at his feet, while if the aquiline nose, clear cut against the dim fire beyond, had descended three or four inches lower, it would have been shut off from view by the same knees.  The blanket was thrown back far enough to reveal the body, legs and moccasins of the warrior, which were those of a man of powerful frame and great activity.

The camp-fire had smoldered as though it had not been replenished for hours.  Still it diffused a steady, subdued glow, from the other side of the figure, as if the latter were stamped in ink, and the picture was a striking one in every respect.

After Fred had scrutinized it a few minutes he gathered more courage and took in the surroundings.  These were not very extensive, but such as they were, they were of a hopeful nature.  Just in front of the sleeping Indian were several objects lying upon the leaves, which he was certain were the bones of some animal, most probably a deer or buffalo.

“And if they are, there’s meat upon them,” was the consideration of the lad, who smacked his lips in anticipation.

That might be, but how were they to be obtained?  That was the all-important question.  It was not to be supposed that the most skillful scout in the West could creep up to the feet of a sleeping Kiowa and gather some food without an almost certainty of detection.  But for the fact that Fred was so hungry, nothing could have induced him to make the attempt.  As it was, he believed that he could succeed.  At any rate, he resolved that the attempt should be made.