loitered in the
shade, and some slept. But always two or three remained awake; and
although they sat apparently ready to doze off at any minute, Buddy knew
them too well to hope for such good luck. Two Indians rode in toward
evening dragging a calf that had been overlooked in the roundup; and
having improvidently burned the cabin, the meat was cooked over the
embers which still smouldered in places where knots in the logs made
slow fuel.

Buddy watched them hungrily, wondering how long it took to starve.

When it was growing dark he tried to keep in mind the exact positions
of the Indians, and to discover whether a guard would be placed over
the camp, or whether they felt safe enough to sleep without a sentinel.
Hides-the-face he had long ago decided was in charge of the party, and
Hides-the-face was seemingly concerned only with gorging himself on
the half-roasted meat. Buddy hoped he would choke himself, but
Hides-the-face was very good at gulping half-chewed hunks and finished
without disaster.

Then he grunted something to someone in the dark, and there was movement
in the group. Buddy ground his growing "second" teeth together, clenched
his fist and said "Damn it!" three times in a silent crescendo of rage
because he could neither see nor hear what took place; and immediately
he repented his profanity, remembering that God could hear him.
In Buddy's opinion, you never could be sure about God; He bestowed
mysterious mercies and strange punishments, and His ways were past
finding out. Buddy tipped his palms together and repeated all the
prayers his mother had taught him and then, with a flash of memory,
finished with "Oh, God, please!" just as mother had done long ago on the
dry drive. After that he meditated uncomfortably for a few minutes
and added in a faint whisper, "Oh, shucks! You don't want to pay any
attention to a fellow cussing a little when he's mad. I could easy make
that up if you helped me out some way."

Buddy believed afterwards that God yielded to persuasion and decided to
give him a chance. For not more than five minutes passed when a far-off
murmur grew to an indefinable roar, and the wind whooped down off the
Snowies so fiercely that even the dugout quivered a little and rattled
dirt down on Buddy through the poles just over his head.

At first this seemed an unlucky circumstance, for the Indians came down
into the dugout for shelter, and now Buddy was afraid to breathe in
the quiet interval