Oh, Wetzel is a fighter!" "I hope I shall see him," said Joe once more, the warm light, which made him look so boyish, still glowing in his face.
"Mebbe ye'll git to; and sure ye'll see redskins, an' not tame ones, nuther." At this moment the sound of excited voices near the cabins broke in on the conversation.

Joe saw several persons run toward the large cabin and disappear behind it.

He smiled as he thought perhaps the commotion had been caused by the awakening of the Indian brave.
Rising to his feet, Joe went toward the cabin, and soon saw the cause of the excitement.

A small crowd of men and women, all laughing and talking, surrounded the Indian brave and the little stout fellow.

Joe heard some one groan, and then a deep, guttural voice: "Paleface--big steal--ugh! Injun mad--heap mad--kill paleface." After elbowing his way into the group, Joe saw the Indian holding Loorey with one hand, while he poked him on the ribs with the other.
The captive's face was the picture of dismay; even the streaks of paint did not hide his look of fear and bewilderment.