IN DANGER
There were no bushes that would serve their purpose near the lake; they
therefore formed their camp on the leeward side of a large boulder. The
greatest care was observed in gathering the fuel, and it burned with a
clear flame without giving out the slightest smoke.
"Dead wood dries like tinder in this here air," the miner said. "In
course, if there wur any red-skins within two or three miles on these
hills they would make out the camp, still that ain't likely; but any
loafing Indian who chanced to be hunting ten or even fifteen miles away
would see smoke if there was any, and when a red-skin sees smoke, if he
can't account for it, he is darned sartin to set about finding out who
made it."
The horses fared badly, for there was nothing for them to pick up save a
mouthful of stunted grass here and there.
"Plenty of grass to-morrow," the chief said in answer to a remark of Tom
as to the scantiness of their feed. "Grass down by Buffalo Lake good."
Early the next morning they mounted and rode down the hills into Big
Wind River valley. They did not go down to the river itself, but skirted
the foot of the hills until they reached Buffalo Lake.
"There," the chief said, pointing to a pile of ashes, "the fire of my
white brother." Alighting, he and Hunting Dog searched the ground
carefully round the fire. Presently the younger Indian lightly touched
the chief and pointed to the ground. They talked together, still
carefully examining the ground, and moved off in a straight line some
fifty yards. Then they returned.
"Indian here," Leaping Horse said, "one, two days ago. Found fire, went
off on trail of white men."
"That is bad news, chief."
"Heap bad," the Indian said gravely.
"Perhaps he won't follow far," Tom suggested.
The Indian made no answer. He evidently considered the remark to be
foolish.
"You don't know much of Indian nature yet, Tom," the miner said. "When a
red-skin comes upon the trail of whites in what he considers his
country, he will follow them if it takes him weeks to do it, till he
finds out all about them, and if he passes near one of his own villages
he will tell the news, and a score of the varmint will take up the trail
with him. It's them ashes as has done it. If the chief here had stopped
with them till they started this would not have happened, for he would
have seen that they swept every sign of their fire into the lake. I
wonder they did not think of it themselves. It was a dog-goned foolish
trick to leave such a mark as this. I expect they will be more keerful
arterwards, but they reckoned that they had scarce got into the Indian
country."
"Do you think it was yesterday the red-skin was here, or the day before,
chief?"
"Leaping Horse can't say," the Indian replied. "Ground very hard, mark
very small. No rain, trail keep fresh a long time. Only find mark
twice." He led them to a spot where, on the light dust among the rocks,
was the slight impression of a footmark.
"That is the mark of a moccasin, sure enough," Jerry said; "but maybe
one of the whites, if not all of them, have put on moccasins for the
journey. They reckoned on climbing about some, and moccasins beat boots
anyhow for work among the hills."
"Red-skin foot," the Indian said quietly.
"Well, if you say it is, of course it is. I should know it myself if I
saw three or four of them in a line, but as there is only one mark it
beats me."
"How would you know, Jerry?"
"A white man always turns out his toes, lad, an Indian walks
straight-footed. There are other differences that a red-skin would see
at once, but which are beyond me, for I have never done any tracking
work."
The Indian without speaking led them to another point some twenty yards
away, and pointed to another impression. This was so slight that it was
with difficulty that Tom could make out the outline.
"Yes, that settles it," Jerry said. "You see, lad, when there was only
one mark I could not tell whether it was turned out or not, for that
would depend on the direction the man was walking in. This one is just
in a line with the other, and so the foot must have been set down
straight. Had it been turned out a bit, the line, carried straight
through the first footprint, would have gone five or six yards away to
the right."
It took Tom two or three minutes to reason this out to himself, but at
last he understood the drift of what his companion said. As the line
through one toe and heel passed along the centre of the other, the foot
must each time have been put down in a straight line, while if the
footprints had been made by a person who turned out his toes they would
never point straight towards those farther on.
"Well, what is your advice, chief?" Jerry asked.
"Must camp and eat," the Indian replied, "horses gone far enough. No
fear here, red-skin gone on trail."
"Do you think there have been more than one, chief?"
"Not know," Leaping Horse said; "find out by and by."
Tom now noticed that Hunting Dog had disappeared.
"Where shall we make the fire?"
The chief pointed to the ashes.
"That's it," Jerry said. "If any red-skin came along you see, Tom, there
would be nothing to tell them that more than one party had been here."
The chief this time undertook the collection of fuel himself, and a
bright fire was presently burning. Two hours later Hunting Dog came
back. He talked for some time earnestly with the chief, and taking out
two leaves from his wampum bag opened them and showed him two tiny heaps
of black dust. Jerry asked no questions until the conversation was done,
and then while Hunting Dog cut off a large chunk of deer's flesh, and
placing it in the hot ashes sat himself quietly down to wait until it
was cooked, he said:
"Well, chief, what is the news?"
"The Indian had a horse, Hunting Dog came upon the spot where he had
left it a hundred yards away. When he saw ashes, he came to look at
them. Afterwards he followed the trail quite plain on the soft ground at
head of lake. Over there," and he pointed to the foot of the hills,
"Indian stopped and fired twice."
"How on earth did he know that, chief?"
The chief pointed to the two leaves. The scout examined the powder.
"Wads," he said. "They are leather wads, Tom, shrivelled and burnt. What
did he fire at, chief?"
"Signal. Half a mile farther three other mounted redskins joined him.
They stopped and had heap talk. Then one rode away into hills, the
others went on at gallop on trail."
"That is all bad, chief. The fellow who went up the hills no doubt made
for a village?"
The chief nodded.
"The only comfort is that Harry has got a good start of them. It was a
week from the time you left them before we met you, that is three days
ago, so that if the red-skins took up the trail yesterday, Harry has ten
days' start of them."
Leaping Horse shook his head. "Long start if travel fast, little start
if travel slow."
"I see what you mean. If they pushed steadily on up the valley, they
have gone a good distance, but if they stopped to catch beaver or
prospect for gold they may not have got far away. Hadn't we better be
pushing on, chief?"
"No good, horses make three days' journey; rest well to-day, travel
right on to-morrow. If go farther to-night, little good to-morrow. Good
camp here, all rest."
"Well, no doubt you are right, chief, but it worries one to think that
while we are sitting here those 'tarnal red-skins may be attacking our
friends. My only hope is that Harry, who has done a lot of Indian
fighting, will hide his trail as much as possible as he goes on, and
that they will have a lot of trouble in finding it."
The chief nodded. "My white brother, Harry, knows Indian ways. He did
not think he had come to Indian country here or he would not have left
his ashes. But beyond this he will be sure to hide his trail, and the
'Rappahoes will have to follow slow."
"You think they are 'Rappahoes, chief?"
"Yes, this 'Rappahoe country. The Shoshones are further north, and are
friendly; the Bannacks and Nez Percés are in northwest, near Snake
River; and the Sioux more on the north and east, on other side of great
mountains. 'Rappahoes here."
"Waal," Jerry said wrathfully, "onless they catch Harry asleep, some of
the darned skunks will be rubbed out afore they get his scalp. It is a
good country for hiding trail. There are many streams coming down from
the hills into the Big Wind, and they can turn up or down any of them as
they please, and land on rocky ground too, so it would be no easy matter
to track them. By the lay of the country there does not seem much chance
of gold anywheres about here, and, as I reckon, they will be thinking
more of that than of beaver skins, so I think they would push straight
on."
"Harry said he should get out of Big Wind River valley quick," Leaping
Horse said. "Too many Indians there. Get into mountains other side. Go
up Rivière de Noir, then over big mountains into Sierra Shoshone, and
then down Buffalo through Jackson's Hole, and then strike Snake River. I
told him heap bad Indians in Jackson's Hole, Bannacks, and Nez Percés.
He said not go down into valley, keep on foot-hills. I told him, too bad
journey, but he and other pale-faces thought could do it, and might find
much gold. No good Leaping Horse talk."
"This is a dog-goned bad business I have brought you into, Tom. I
reckoned we should not get out without troubles, but I did not
calkerlate on our getting into them so soon."
"You did not bring me here, Jerry, so you need not blame yourself for
that. It was I brought you into it, for you did not make up your mind to
come till I had settled to go with Leaping Horse."
"I reckon I should have come anyhow," Jerry grumbled. "Directly the
chief said where Harry and the others had gone my mind was set on
joining them. It was a new country, and there wur no saying what they
might strike, and though I ain't a regular Indian-fighter, leaving them
alone when they leave me alone, I can't say as I am averse to a
scrimmage with them if the odds are anyways equal."
"It is a wonderful country," Tom said, looking at the almost
perpendicular cliffs across the valley, with their regular coloured
markings, their deep fissures, crags, and pinnacles, "and worth coming a
long way to see."
"I don't say as it ain't curous, but I have seen the like down on the
Colorado, and I don't care if I never see no more of it if we carry our
scalps safe out of this. I don't say as I object to hills if they are
covered with forest, for there is safe to be plenty of game there, and
the wood comes in handy for timbering, but this kind of country that
looks as if some chaps with paint-pots had been making lines all over
it, ain't to my taste noway. Here, lad; I never travel without hooks and
lines; you can get a breakfast and dinner many a day when a gun would
bring down on you a score of red varmints. I expect you will find fish
in the lake. Many of these mountain lakes just swarm with them. You had
better look about and catch a few bugs, there ain't no better bait.
Those jumping bugs are as good as any," and he pointed to a grasshopper,
somewhat to Tom's relief, for the lad had just been wondering where he
should look for bugs, not having seen one since he landed in the States.
There were two lines and hooks in the miner's outfit, and Tom and
Hunting Dog, after catching some grasshoppers, went down to the lake,
while Jerry and the chief had a long and earnest conversation together.
The baited hooks were scarcely thrown into the water when they were
seized, and in a quarter of an hour ten fine lake trout were lying on
the bank. Tom was much delighted. He had fished from boats, but had
never met with much success, and his pleasure at landing five fish
averaging four or five pounds apiece was great. As it was evidently
useless to catch more, they wound up their lines, and Hunting Dog split
the fish open and laid them down on the rock, which was so hot that Tom
could scarce bear his hand on it.
Seeing the elder men engaged in talk Tom did not return to them, but
endeavoured to keep up a conversation with the young Indian, whom he
found to be willing enough to talk now they were alone, and who knew
much more English than he had given him credit for. As soon as the sun
set the fire was extinguished, and they lay down to sleep shortly
afterwards. An hour before daylight they were in the saddle. Hunting Dog
rode ahead on the line he had followed the day before. As soon as it
became light Tom kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, but it was only
now and then, when the Indian pointed to the print of a horse's hoof in
the sand between the rocks, that he could make them out. The two Indians
followed the track, however, without the slightest difficulty, the
horses going at a hand gallop.
"They don't look to me like horses' footprints," Tom said to Jerry when
they had passed a spot where the marks were unusually clear.
"I reckon you have never seen the track of an unshod horse before, Tom.
With a shod horse you see nothing but the mark of the shoe, here you get
the print of the whole hoof. Harry has been careful enough here, and has
taken the shoes off his ponies, for among all the marks, we have not
seen any made by a shod horse. The Indians never shoe theirs, and the
mark of an iron is enough to tell the first red-skin who passes that a
white man has gone along there. The chief and I took off the shoes of
the four horses yesterday afternoon when you were fishing. We put them
and the nails by to use when we get out of this dog-goned country."
After riding for two hours they came to the bank of a stream. The chief
held up his hand for them to stop, while he dismounted and examined the
foot-marks. Then he mounted again and rode across the stream, which was
some ten yards wide and from two to three feet deep. He went on a short
distance beyond it, leapt from his saddle, threw the reins on the
horse's neck, and returned to the bank on foot. He went a short distance
up the stream and then as much down, stooping low and examining every
inch of the ground. Then he stood up and told the others to cross.
[Illustration: "Leaping Horse Mounted, And Rode Across The Stream"]
"Leave your horses by mine," he said as they joined him. "Trail very
bad, all rock." He spoke to the young Indian, who, on dismounting, at
once went forward, quartering the ground like a spaniel in search of
game, while the chief as carefully searched along the bank.
"Best leave them to themselves, Tom; they know what they are doing."
"They are hunting for the trail, Jerry, I suppose?"
"Ay, lad. Harry struck on a good place when he crossed where he did, for
you see the rock here is as smooth as the top of a table, and the wind
has swept it as clean of dust as if it had been done by an eastern
woman's broom. If the horses had been shod there would have been
scratches on the rock that would have been enough for the dullest Indian
to follow, but an unshod horse leaves no mark on ground like this. I
expect the red-skins who followed them were just as much puzzled as the
chief is. There ain't no saying whether they crossed and went straight
on, or whether they never crossed at all or kept in the stream either up
or down."
It was half an hour before the two Indians had concluded their
examination of the ground.
"Well, chief, what do you make of it?" Jerry asked when they had spoken
a few words together.
"Hunting Dog has good eyes," the chief said. "The white men went
forward, the red men could not find the trail, and thought that they had
kept in the river, so they went up to search for them. Come, let us go
forward."
The miner and Tom mounted their horses, but the Indians led theirs
forward some three hundred yards. Then Hunting Dog pointed down, and the
chief stooped low and examined the spot.
"What is it, chief?" Jerry asked; and he and Tom both got off and knelt
down. They could see nothing whatever.
"That is it," Leaping Horse said, and pointed to a piece of rock
projecting half an inch above the flat.
"I am darned if I can see anything."
"There is a tiny hair there," Tom said, putting his face within a few
inches of the ground. "It might be a cat's hair; it is about the length,
but much thicker. It is brown."
"Good!" the chief said, putting his hand on Tom's shoulder. "Now let us
ride." He leapt into his saddle, the others following his example, and
they went on at the same pace as before.
"Well, chief," the miner said, "what does that hair tell you about it,
for I can't make neither head nor tail of it?"
"The white men killed a deer on their way up here, and they cut up the
hide and made shoes for horses, so that they should leave no tracks. One
of the horses trod on a little rock and a hair came out of the hide."
"That may be it, chief," the miner said, after thinking the matter over,
"though it ain't much of a thing to go by."
"Good enough," Leaping Horse said. "We know now the line they were
taking. When we get to soft ground see trail plainer."
"What will the others do when they cannot find the trail anywhere along
the bank?"
"Ride straight on," the chief said. "Search banks of next river, look at
mouths of valleys to make sure white men have not gone up there, meet
more of tribe, search everywhere closely, find trail at last."
"Well, that ought to give Harry a good start, anyhow."
"Not know how long gone on," the chief said gravely. "No rainfall. Six,
eight--perhaps only two days' start."
"But if they always hide their trail as well as they did here I don't
see how the Indians can find them at all--especially as they don't know
where they are making for, as we do."
"Find camp. Men on foot may hide traces, but with horses sure to find."
"That is so," Jerry agreed, shaking his head. "An Indian can see with
half an eye where the grass has been cropped or the leaves stripped off
the bushes. Yes, I am afraid that is so. There ain't no hiding a camp
from Indian eyes where horses have been about. It is sure to be near a
stream. Shall you look for them, chief?"
The Indian shook his head. "Lose time," he said. "We go straight to
Rivière de Noir."
"You don't think, then, they are likely to turn off before that?"
"Leaping Horse thinks not. They know Indian about here. Perhaps found
Indian trail near first camp. Know, anyhow, many Indians. Think push
straight on."
"That is the likeliest. Anyhow, by keeping on we must get nearer to
them. The worst danger seems to me that we may overtake the red-skins
who are hunting them."
The chief nodded.
"It is an all-fired fix, Tom," Jerry went on. "If we go slow we may not
be in time to help Harry and the others to save their scalps; if we go
fast we may come on these 'tarnal red-skins, and have mighty hard work
in keeping our own ha'r on."
"I feel sure that the chief will find traces of them in time to prevent
our running into them, Jerry. Look how good their eyes are. Why, I might
have searched all my life without noticing a single hair on a rock."
After riding some fifteen miles beyond the stream, and crossing two
similar though smaller rivulets, the chief, after a few words with
Jerry, turned off to the left and followed the foot of the hills. At the
mouth of a narrow valley he stopped, examined the ground carefully, and
then led the way up it, carrying his rifle in readiness across the peak
of the saddle. The valley opened when they had passed its mouth, and a
thick grove of trees grew along the bottom. As soon as they were beneath
their shelter they dismounted.
The horses at once began to crop the grass. Hunting Dog went forward
through the trees, rifle in hand.
"Shall I take the bits out of the horses' mouths, Jerry?" Tom asked.
"Not till the young Indian returns. It is not likely there is a red-skin
village up there, for we should have seen a trail down below if there
had been. Still there may be a hut or two, and we can do nothing till he
comes back."
It was half an hour before Hunting Dog came through the trees again. He
shook his head, and without a word loosened the girths of his horse and
took off the bridle.
"He has seen no signs of them, so we can light a fire and get something
to eat. I am beginning to feel I want something badly."
Thus reminded, Tom felt at once that he was desperately hungry. They had
before starting taken a few mouthfuls of meat that had been cooked the
day before and purposely left over, but it was now three o'clock in the
afternoon, and he felt ravenous. The Indians quickly collected dried
wood, and four of the fish were soon frizzling on hot ashes, while the
kettle, hung in the flame, was beginning to sing.
"We have done nigh forty miles, Tom, and the horses must have a couple
of hours' rest. We will push on as fast as we can before dark, and then
wait until the moon rises; it will be up by ten. This ain't a country to
ride over in the dark. We will hide up before morning, and not go on
again till next night. Of course we shall not go so fast as by day, but
we sha'n't have any risk of being ambushed. The chief reckons from what
he has heard that the Indian villages are thick along that part of the
valley, and that it will never do to travel by day."
"Then you have given up all hopes of finding Harry's tracks?"
"It would be just wasting our time to look for them. We will push on
sharp till we are sure we are ahead of them. We may light upon them by
chance, but there can be no searching for them with these red varmint
round us. It would be just chucking away our lives without a chance of
doing any good. I expect Harry and his party are travelling at night
too; but they won't travel as fast as we do, not by a sight. They have
got pack-ponies with them, and they are likely to lay off a day or two
if they come upon a good place for hiding."
They travelled but a few miles after their halt, for the Indians
declared they could make out smoke rising in two or three places ahead;
and although neither Jerry nor Tom could distinguish it, they knew that
the Indians' sight was much keener than their own in a matter of this
kind. They therefore halted again behind a mass of rocks that had fallen
down the mountain-side. Hunting Dog lay down among the highest of the
boulders to keep watch, and the horses were hobbled to prevent their
straying. The miner and the chief lit their pipes, and Tom lay down on
his back for a sleep. A short time before it became dusk the call of a
deer was heard.
"There are wapiti, chief. We can't take a shot at them; but it don't
matter, we have meat enough for a week."
The chief had already risen to his feet, rifle in hand.
"It is a signal from Hunting Dog," he said, "he has seen something in
the valley. My white brother had better get the horses together," and he
made his way up the rocks. In a minute or two he called out that the
horses might be left to feed, and presently came leisurely down to them.
"Seen Indians--ten 'Rappahoes."
"Which way were they going?"
"Riding from Big Wind River across valley. Been away hunting among hills
over there. Have got meat packed on horses, ride slow. Not have heard
about white men's trail. Going to village, where we saw smoke."
Tom was fast asleep when Jerry roused him, and told him that the moon
was rising, and that it was time to be off.
They started at a walk, the chief leading; Jerry followed him, while Tom
rode between him and Hunting Dog, who brought up the rear. Tom had been
warned that on no account was he to speak aloud. "If you have anything
you want to say, and feel that you must say it or bust," Jerry remarked,
"just come up alongside of me and whisper it. Keep your eyes open and
your rifle handy, we might come upon a party any minute. They might be
going back to their village after following Harry's trail as long as
they could track it, or it might be a messenger coming back to fetch up
food, or those fellows Hunting Dog made out going on to join those in
front. Anyhow we have got to travel as quiet as if there was ears all
round us."
As they passed the clumps of trees where the Indian villages stood they
could see the reflection of the fires on the foliage, and heard the
frequent barking of dogs and an occasional shout. A quarter of a mile
farther the chief halted and spoke to Hunting Dog, who at once
dismounted and glided away towards the village.
"Gone to see how many men there," the chief said in explanation to
Jerry. "Too much laugh, no good."
"He means the men must have gone off again, Tom. If there were men in
the camp the boys would not be making a noise."
They were but a few hundred yards from the trees, and in a very short
time the Indian returned.
"Men are gone," he said; "only squaws and boys there."
"How many lodges are there?" the chief asked. Hunting Dog held up both
hands with extended fingers, and then one finger only.
"Eleven of them," Jerry said. "I expect they are all small villages, and
they move their lodges across into the forests when winter comes on."
As soon as they had mounted, the chief put his horse into a canter, and
at this pace they went forward for some hours, breaking into a walk
occasionally for a few minutes.
"I thought you said we should not go beyond a walk to-night, Jerry," Tom
remarked on the first of these occasions.
"That is what we kinder agreed, lad; but you may be sure the chief has
some good reason for going on faster. I dunno what it is, and I ain't
going to ask. Red-skins hate being questioned. If he wants to tell us he
will tell us without being asked."
A faint light was stealing over the sky when the chief halted his horse
and sat listening. No sound, however, broke the stillness of the night.
"Did you think you heard anything, chief?"
"Leaping Horse heard nothing, but he stopped to listen. What does my
white brother think of the 'Rappahoes having gone on directly they
returned from the chase?"
"I thought that when they got the news that some white men had gone
through, they might have started to join those following up the trail.
Isn't that what you think, chief?"
"Only three white men, plenty Indians on trail; no hurry to follow;
might have had feast after hunt and gone on in morning."
"So they might. You think the whites have been tracked, and are to be
attacked this morning?"
"Perhaps attacked yesterday. Perhaps have got strong place, 'Rappahoes
want more help to take it. White rifle shoot straight, perhaps want more
men to starve them out."
They again went forward, at a gallop now. Jerry did not think much of
the chief's idea. It seemed to him natural that the Indians should want
to join in the hunt for scalps, and to get a share of the white men's
goods, though he admitted that it was strange they should have gone on
without taking a meal. Presently the chief reined in his horse again,
and sat with head bent forward. Tom heard an angry grunt from between
Hunting Dog's teeth. Listening intently also, he was conscious of a
faint, far-away sound.
"You hear?" the chief said to Jerry.
"I heard something; but it might be anything. A waterfall in the hills
miles away, that is what it sounds like."
"Guns," the chief said laconically.
"Do you think so?" Jerry said doubtfully. "There don't seem to me
anything of guns in it. It is just a sort of murmur that keeps on and
on."
"It is the mountains speaking back again," the chief said, waving his
hand. "Hills everywhere. They say to each other, the red men who live in
our bosoms are attacking the pale-face strangers."
"What do you think, Hunting Dog?" Tom whispered to the Indian.
"Gun-shot," he replied, in a tone of absolute conviction.
"Waal, chief, I will not gainsay your opinion," Jerry said. "How far do
you think it is off?"
"The horses will take us there in two hours," the chief replied.
"Then we can put it at twenty miles at least. Let us be going; whatever
the sound is, we shall know more about it before we have gone much
farther."
"Not too fast," Leaping Horse said as the miner was urging his horse
forward. "Maybe have to fight, maybe have to run. No good tire horse too
much."
It was more than an hour before Tom could hear any distinct change in
the character of the sound, but at last he was able to notice that,
though seemingly continuous, the sound really pulsated; sometimes it
almost died away, then suddenly swelled out again, and there were
several vibrations close together. Jerry, more accustomed to the sound
of firearms in the mountains, had before this come round to the chief's
opinion.
"It is guns, sure enough, Tom; the chief has made no mistake about it.
Waal, there is one comfort, they ain't been surprised. They are making a
good fight of it, and we may be there in time to take a hand in the
game."
"Shall we ride straight on and join them?"
"I reckon not, lad. We must wait until we see what sort of place Harry
is in, and how we can best help him, before we fix on any scheme."
The sound became louder and clearer. The echo was still continuous, but
the sound of the shots could be distinctly heard.
"It is over there, to the right," Jerry said. "They must have crossed
the Big Wind River."
"And gone up the De Noir valley," the chief said. "We ought to be close
to it now."
"Yes, I reckon it can't be far off, by what you told me about the
distance."
"Better cross Big Wind at once. They no see us now."
"I agree with you, chief; it would not do for them to get sight of us.
If they did our case would be worse than Harry's. I expect he has got
strongly posted, or he would have been wiped out long ago; that is what
would happen to us if they were to make us out and spy our numbers afore
we get to some place where we and Harry's outfit can help each other."
They rode rapidly down to the river. With the exception of a few yards
in the middle, where the horses had to swim, the depth was not great,
and they were soon on the other side. They rode to the foot of the
hills, and then kept along it. The sound of firing became louder and
louder, and Tom felt his heart beat quickly at the thought that he might
soon be engaged in a desperate fight with the Indians, and that with the
odds greatly against his party.
Presently the hills fell sharply away, and they were at the entrance of
the valley of the Rivière de Noir, which is the principal arm of the Big
Wind River at this point. The firing had very much died out during the
last few minutes, and only an occasional shot was heard.
"They have beat off the attack so far," Jerry said to him encouragingly.
"Now we have got to lie low a bit, while the chief sees how things
stand."
Leaping Horse dismounted at the mouth of a narrow canon running up into
the cliff beside them. A little stream trickled down its centre.
"Could not have been better," Jerry said. "Here is a place we four could
hold against a crowd of red-skins for hours. There is water anyway, and
where there is water there is mostly a little feed for horses. I will
take your horse, chief, and Tom will take Hunting Dog's, if so be you
mean him to go with you.
"Don't you worry yourself, lad," he went on, seeing how anxious Tom
looked, as they started with the horses up the cañon. "If Harry and his
friends have beaten off the first attack, you may bet your boots they
are safe for some time. It is clear the red-skins have drawn off, and
are holding a pow-wow as to how they are to try next. They attacked, you
see, just as the day was breaking; that is their favourite hour, and I
reckon Harry must have been expecting them, and that he and his mates
were prepared."