The fun, however, was not to be all one-sided.

The big Indian gave a more strenuous pull, and the boot came off suddenly.

Unprepared for this, he lost his balance and fell down the bank almost into the creek.

He held on to the boot, nevertheless, and getting up, threw it into the fire.
The braves quieted down after that, and soon lapsed into slumber, leaving the big fellow, to whom the chief had addressed his brief command, acting, as guard.

Observing Joe watching him as he puffed on his new pipe, he grinned, and spoke in broken English that was intelligible, and much of a surprise to the young man.
"Paleface--tobac'-- heap good." Then, seeing that Joe made no effort to follow his brother's initiative, for Jim was fast asleep, he pointed to the recumbent figures and spoke again.
"Ugh! Paleface sleep--Injun wigwams--near setting sun." On the following morning Joe was awakened by the pain in his legs, which had been bound all night.