Accordingly, he hung on to the lad, and in this fashion they went for
half a mile or so, when the river was reached. Presently Frank
discovered signs of a camp not far in the distance. A little pale smoke
was rising over the thicket, and he also saw a conical skin teepee,
while on the shore were three bullboats.

As Little Mink came into camp, assisting the white hunter, several
squaws began an excited jabber that brought out a couple of bucks.

"A hungry-looking lot all around," was the mental comment of the young
hunter.

He had seen that Little Mink did not look as though he had enjoyed a
bountiful share of food lately, and the rest of the party were certainly
no better off.

One of the bucks was an old man, yet he seemed to have a certain dignity
about him. Frank's curiosity was now greater than ever. He made up his
mind that there was something singular about this party of Crees who
seemed to be wandering in the wilderness without guns, or any means for
obtaining food, and, if possible, he meant to discover what the secret
could be.

The old Indian approached, looking suspiciously at him. Frank put out
his hand at once in a cordial manner.

"How!" he said, smiling in his engaging manner.

The other at once fell under the charm of Frank's smile.