Joe's authoritative tone brooked no delay, so he sprang into the tree like a monkey.
"Crusoe," said Dick, "_watch him!_" The dog sat quietly down at the foot of the tree, and fixed his eyes on the savage with a glare that spoke unutterable things.

At the same time he displayed his full complement of teeth, and uttered a sound like distant thunder.
Joe almost laughed, and Henri did laugh outright.
"Come along; he's safe now," cried Dick, hurrying away in the direction of the willow bluff, which they soon reached, and found that the faithful squaw had tied their steeds to the bushes, and, moreover, had bundled up their goods into a pack, and strapped it on the back of the pack-horse; but she had not remained with them.
"Bless yer dark face!" ejaculated Joe, as he sprang into the saddle and rode out of the clump of bushes.
He was followed immediately by the others, and in three minutes they were flying over the plain at full speed.
On gaining the last far-off ridge, that afforded a distant view of the woods skirting the Pawnee camp, they drew up; and Dick, putting his fingers to his mouth, drew a long, shrill whistle.
It reached the willow bluff like a faint echo.

At the same moment the moon arose and more clearly revealed Crusoe's cataleptic glare at the Indian chief, who, being utterly unarmed, was at the dog's mercy.

The instant the whistle fell on his ear, however, he dropped his eyes, covered his teeth, and, leaping through the bushes, flew over the plains like an arrow.

At the same instant Mahtawa, descending from his tree, ran as fast as he could towards the village, uttering the terrible war-whoop when near enough to be heard.