Toma had halted on the brink of the cliff and the boys saw him raise clinched fists to the sky. Toma had failed this time, but, somehow, the boys felt sure there was another time coming.
Behind them Malemute Slade was calling. They rejoined the victorious mounted police, Toma tardily returning.
Presently they were behind the dogs on the trail to Fort Good Faith, their party now increased to five with Sergeant Brewster and Constable Marden.
“I hope Uncle Walter has been able to hold out this long,” Sandy whispered to himself as he ran after the waving tails of the huskies.
“We’re coming into an Indian village,” Dick called to Sandy, when the party reached the top of a long ridge.
Sandy, who was some distance in the rear, hurried up and joined Dick. A village of nearly a score of tepees lay ahead, the smoke of a number of campfires rising here and there.
Sergeant Brewster, who had taken command, explained that he was about to enlist the tribe’s aid in an effort at retaking Fort Good Faith.
“Chief Black Dog is a good friend of the mounted,” said Sergeant Brewster, “and he’ll let us have a few warriors. I suppose Henderson has tried to get the old fellow on his side, but chief is loyal.”
They entered the village, and had some trouble with the numberless Indian dogs that rushed out savagely from behind the tepees and attacked the huskies. Presently several Indians came and called off the dogs, throwing stones and sticks at them.
Sergeant Brewster addressed one of the braves: “Tell Chief Black Dog a man from the Great White Father has come to see him.”
The buck hurried away, and soon returned, saying the chief would be glad to see him, in fact had invited them all to his council tepee.
Leaving Toma to look after the dogs, Dick and Sandy followed Malemute Slade and the policemen to a tepee much larger than the rest. The entrance was so high that even Malemute Slade entered erect.
“Gosh, it’s dark,” whispered Sandy, when the tepee flap closed behind them.
The only light in the tepee was a tiny fire glowing in the center. Before this Dick and Sandy could make out three shadowy figures. The one in the center was an aged Indian with snow white hair. He was Chief Black Dog.
“The white brother comes from the Great White Father. It is good. Peace with white brother,” the old chief spoke.