-#{ TO CARIBOO AND BACK }--

faced, weatherbeaten fellow who had little to
say about himself or the journey. He inspired
confidence, however, for it was plain that he
had had long experience of the West and what-
ever might happen he would not be at a loss.

All of them except Betty and Arthur were
on foot, walking beside the cart; the driver
held the reins in one hand and in the other
a long rawhide whip, which he cracked from
time to time over the back of the slow beast
in the shafts.

“Nearly there!” Betty shouted joyously as
the road took a steeper slant up. “Bill says
the river is just beyond those trees,” and she
pointed to a stretch of dark green firs and
cedars.

All at once, from those very trees and from
other points all around, there appeared men on
horsebatk, Indians, painted like demons. They
uttered wild whoops and yells as they came
galloping on and circled round the caravan with
threatening gestures, swinging their toma-
hawks.

The oxcarts were pulled up short and the
ponies closed in on both sides of the road.
Nearer and nearer came the savages. Betty

[60]