"Indians, probably," replied Ned. "The country is full of them about
here, so I hear."

"Mustn't believe all you hear," piped up Stacy, repeating Ned
Rector's own words, and the latter's muttered reply was lost in the
laughter that followed.

It was close to twelve o'clock when they finally emerged on a broad
table or mesa. Before them lay the foothills of the Rosebud, rising
in broken mounds, some of which towered almost level with the lower
peaks of the mountains themselves.

"I don't see anything of our guide's cabin," said Tad, halting and
looking about them. "What do you think, Professor!"

"We will go on to the foothills and wait there. I imagine he will he
waiting for us somewhere hereabouts."

"Yes, we have followed our course by the compass," answered Tad.

However, the lad had overlooked the fact, as had the others, that in
order to find a suitable fording place, they had followed the hanks
of the East Fork for several miles. This served to throw them off
their course and when they finally reached the foothills they were
some six miles to the north of the place where the guide was to pick
them up.

As they rode on, the ground gradually rose under them, nor did they
realize that they were entering the foothills themselves; and so it