'Where are Mickey and Ethan?' he inquired, as he leaped alongside of
him.

'In the cave.'

'How is it you are here?'

The trappur briefly explained that he had crept out to hunt him up;
but as there seemed no imminent danger, he deemed it best to leave his
companions there, as if the Indians once gained possession of the
golden ravine, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to displace
them.

Besides, in order to carry out the scheme which he had formed, it was
necessary that two at least should remain in the cave, while the
others were on the outside.

Under the direction of the trapper, the steam man slowly approached
the ravine, keeping at a respectful distance, but so near that if any
sudden emergency should arise, they would be able to render assistance
to their friends.

The boy gave several whistles so as to inform the Irishman and Yankee
of their whereabouts. A few seconds after, and while the noise of the
instrument was echoing over the prairie, a fainter whistle reached
their ears.

'That's the long-legged Yankee!' instantly remarked the trapper; 'he
knows how to make my kind of noise.'