The trail, as has been stated, was broad and comparatively level. The slope of the mountain to the right was so moderate that it could be climbed by a horse almost as readily as by a man. Its face was covered with a growth of cedars, continuing half way to the summit, when it terminated, only bleak masses of rock, sprinkled with snow, whose volume increased with the elevation, being visible above and beyond.

When the four pursuers came together, their faces showed that they comprehended the serious business before them. It was seen that Captain Dawson was slightly pale, but those who had been with him in battle had observed the same peculiarity. Accompanied, as it was in this instance, by a peculiar steely glitter of his eyes, it meant that he was in a dangerous mood and the man who crossed his path did so at his peril.

It was evident that he and Vose Adams had reached an understanding during the few minutes that they were riding in advance. The words of Vose Adams were spoken for the benefit of Ruggles and the parson.

“You’ll wait here till I take a look at things.”

“What do you mean to do?” asked Brush.

“I’m going up the slope on foot to find out how the land lays.”

“And when you find that out, what next?”

“He is to come back and report to me,” interposed the captain.

There was a world of meaning in these words. It showed that the captain allowed Adams to lead only when acting as a guide. In all other matters, the retired officer assumed control. The opportunity of Vose to pick off the offending lieutenant promised to be better than that of any one else, since he would first see him, but he had been given to understand that he must immediately return and let the captain know the situation. Adams had promised this and he knew Dawson too well to dare to thwart him.

Brush and Ruggles could make no objection, keen though their disappointment was. They watched Adams, as he slipped off his mule, not deeming it worth while to utter the warning both had had in mind. It was the parson who said:

“I suppose we have nothing to do except to wait here till you come back?”

“It looks that way, but you must ask the captain.”

“You won’t be gone long?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Be careful, but there’s no need of waiting,” said the captain.

The three watched the guide until he disappeared from sight among the cedars, when the captain added:

“Vose told me that it was possible that camp fire had been started by Indians, but it seems to me there is little likelihood of that.”

“Why?”

“Those people are so skilled in woodcraft that they would have been on the alert against our approach, for a brief survey of the trail for the last half hour would have revealed us to them.”

“It may be,” suggested the parson, “that with every reason to believe there is no danger of anything of the kind, for it must be rare that a white man passes along this trail, they did not keep a lookout.”

The captain shook his head.

“From what I know of the American race, it is unlike them.”

“What knowledge have we that they have not maintained such a lookout and discovered us as soon as we noticed the camp fire itself? They may have formed an ambuscade at some point further along the trail.”

“It is a disturbing possibility and I would be alarmed, but for my confidence in Vose. He has been through this region so often and knows these wild people so thoroughly that he could not commit a blunder 218 like that. It seems to me,” added the captain a few minutes, later, “that he is absent a long time.”

“It’s tough,” remarked Ruggles, “that things are fixed so we won’t have a chance to take any hand in this bus’ness.”

The captain looked inquiringly at him and he explained:

“You and Vose have set it up atween you.”

“I have told you that if your help is needed, it will be welcome; I can add nothing to that.”

“The captain is right,” interposed the parson, “but at the same time, he can see what a disappointment it is for us.”

“I admit that, but we are not out of the woods yet.”

Before he could make clear the meaning of this remark, Vose Adams emerged from the cedars, and the three breathlessly awaited his coming. He broke into a trot and quickly descended the slope to where they stood. The expression of his face showed before he spoke that he brought unwelcome news.

“Confound it!” he exclaimed with a shake of his head, “they’re not there!”

“Then they have gone on up the trail,” said the captain inquiringly.

“No; they haven’t been there; it isn’t their camp.”

“Whose is it?”

“Injins; there are five of ’em; they’ve just had their breakfast and are gettin’ ready to make a start.”

“Didn’t they see you?”

“That isn’t the way I do bus’ness,” replied Vose rather loftily; “it’s more’n likely, howsumever, they seen us all awhile ago when we was further down the trail. They’re traveling eastward.”

“How can you know that?” asked the parson.

“The Injin that took his dive off the trail ’bout the time the captain fired off his revolver, was going that way. He b’longed to the party and was sorter leading ’em; he was a chief or something of the kind.”

“Where are their ponies?”

“They haven’t any,––leastways he was the only one that had, which is why I said he was some kind of a chief. We shall hear from ’em agin.”

“Why?”

“I mean after they find out about that little row.”

“Why need they find out about it?”

“They can’t help it; they’ll miss their chief; they’ll run across that horse of his and that’ll give ’em the clue.”

This unexpected discovery put a new face on matters. Five mountain Indians, the bravest and most implacable of their race, were almost within stone’s throw of the party. But for the occurrence of a brief while before, they probably would have permitted the white 220 men to continue their journey unmolested, since the strength of the two bands, all things considered, was about equal, but when the hostiles learned of the death of their leader, they would bend every effort toward securing revenge. They would dog the miners, watchful, alert and tireless in their attempts to cut them off from the possibility of ever repeating the deed.

“But that chief, as you seem to think he was,” said Captain Dawson, “is gone as utterly as if the ground had opened and swallowed him. They will never have the chance to officiate at his funeral, so how are they to learn of the manner of his taking off?”

“It won’t take ’em long,” replied Adams; “his pony will hunt them out, now that he is left to himself; that’ll tell ’em that something is up and they’ll start an investigatin’ committee. The footprints of our horses, the marks on the rocks, which you and me wouldn’t notice, the fact that we met the chief on that narrer ledge and that he’s turned up missing will soon lay bare the whole story, and as I remarked aforesaid, we shall hear from ’em agin.”

“It looks like a case of the hunter hunting the tiger,” said the parson, “and then awaking to the fact that the tiger is engaged in hunting him; it is plain to see that there’s going to be a complication of matters, but I don’t feel that it need make any difference to us.”

“It won’t!” replied the captain decisively; “we 221 haven’t put our hands to the plough with any intention of looking back. What’s the next thing to do, Vose?”

“We’ve got to look after our animals.”

“But there’s no grass here for them.”

“A little further and we’ll strike a stream of water where we’ll find some grass, though not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Vaulting into the saddle, the guide after some pounding of his heels against the iron ribs of Hercules, forced him into a gallop, which the others imitated. The trail continued comparatively smooth, and, being slightly descending, the animals were not crowded as hard as it would seem. A mile of this brought them to the water, where they were turned loose. The stream gushed from the mountain side, and, flowing across the trail, was lost among the rocks to the left. The moisture thus diffused produced a moderate growth of tough, coarse grass, which the animals began plucking as soon as the bits were removed from their mouths. They secured little nutriment, but as the guide remarked, it was an improvement upon nothing. The men bathed their faces in the cold, clear water, took a refreshing draught, and then ate the lunch provided for them by the thoughtful Adams. Though they ate heartily, sufficient was kept to answer for another meal or two, if it should be thought wise to put themselves on an allowance.

They had just lighted their pipes, when Wade Ruggles uttered an exclamation. Without explaining the cause, he bounded to his feet and ran several rods to the westward, where he was seen to stoop and pick something from the ground. He examined it closely and then, as he turned about and came back more slowly it was perceived that he held a white handkerchief in his hand. His action caused the others to rise to his feet.

“What have you there?” asked Captain Dawson, suspecting its identity.

“I guess you have seen it before,” replied Wade, handing the piece of fine, bordered linen to him. He turned it over with strange emotions, for he was quick to recognize it.

“Yes,” he said, compressing his lips; “it is hers; she dropped it there––how long ago, Vose?”

The latter examined the handkerchief, as if looking for the answer to the question in its folds, but shook his head.

“Even a mountain Injin could not tell that.”

The parson asked the privilege of examining the article. His heart was beating fast, though no one else was aware of it, for it was a present which he had made to Nellie Dawson on the preceding Christmas, having been brought by Vose Adams, with other articles, on his trip made several months before the presentation. 223 There was the girl’s name, written by himself in indelible ink, and in his neat, round hand. It was a bitter reflection that it had been in her possession, when she was in the company of the one whom she esteemed above all others.

“It may have been,” reflected the parson, carefully keeping his thoughts to himself, “that, when she remembered from whom it came, she flung it aside to please him. Captain,” he added, “since this was once mine, I presume you have no objection to my keeping it.”

“You are welcome to it; I don’t care for it,” replied the parent.

“Thank you,” and the parson carefully put it away to keep company with the letter of Nellie Dawson which broke her father’s heart; “I observe that it is quite dry, which makes me believe it has not been exposed to the dew, and therefore could not have lain long on the ground.”

“You can’t tell anything by that,” commented Vose; “the air is so dry up here, even with the snow and water around us, that there’s no dew to amount to anything.”

All seemed to prefer not to discuss the little incident that had produced so sombre an effect upon the party. Wade Ruggles was disposed to claim the handkerchief, inasmuch as it was he who found it, but he respected the feelings of the parson too much to make any protest.

The occurrence was of no special interest to the guide. He had said they were in danger from the Indians and he gave his thoughts to them. While the others kept their seats on the ground, he stood erect, and, shading his eyes with one hand, peered long and attentively over the trail behind them. The clump of cedars from amid which the thin column of vapor was slowly climbing into the sky and the narrow ledge which had been the scene of their stirring adventure were in view, though its winding course shut a portion from sight.

“I expected it!” suddenly exclaimed Vose.

The others followed the direction of his gaze and saw what had caused his words. The five Indians, whom Vose had discovered in camp, were picking their way along the ledge, with their faces turned from the white men, who were watching them. Despite the chilly air, caused by the elevation, not one of the warriors wore a blanket. Two had bows and arrows, three rifles, carried in a trailing fashion, and all were lithe, sinewy fellows, able to give a good account of themselves in any sort of fight.

A curious fact noted by all of our friends was that while these warriors were thus moving away, not one of them looked behind him. Their long black hair hung loosely about their shoulders, and in the clear air it was observable that three wore stained feathers in the luxuriant growth on their crowns.

“Is it possible that they have no suspicion of us?” asked the parson; “their action in not looking around would imply that.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” was the reply of Adams; “they knowed of us afore we knowed anything of them.”

“Why did they allow us to pass their camp undisturbed?”

“Things weren’t in the right shape for ’em. There are only three guns among ’em, though them kind of Injins are as good with the bow as the rifle, and they made up their minds that if we let them alone, they wouldn’t bother us.”

“You said awhile ago that we should have trouble from them.”

“And so we shall; when they reasoned like I was sayin’, they didn’t know anything about the little accident that happened to their chief; it’s that which will make things lively.”

“We can’t see the point where that accident took place,” said Captain Dawson.

“No; the trail curves too much, but we can foller it most of the way; they’re likely to go right on without ’specting anything, but when they find the horse, it’ll set ’em to looking round. After that, the band will begin to play.”

While the party were watching the five Indians, the 226 leader was seen to pass from view around the curve in the trail, followed by the next, until finally the fifth disappeared. All this time, not one of the warriors looked behind him. It was a singular line of action, and because of its singularity roused the suspicion of the spectators.

While three of the miners resumed their seats on the boulders and ground, Vose Adams kept his feet. Doubling each palm, so as to make a funnel of it, he held one to either eye and continued scrutinizing the point where he had last seen the hostiles. He suspected it was not the last of them. Instead of imitating him, his friends studied his wrinkled countenance.

The air in that elevated region was wonderfully clear, but it is hardly possible to believe the declaration which the guide made some minutes later. He insisted that, despite the great distance, one of the Indians, after passing from view, returned over his own trail and peeped around the bend in the rocks, and that the guide saw his black hair and gleaming snake-like eyes. The fact that Vose waited until the savage had withdrawn from sight, before making the astonishing declaration, threw some discredit on it, for it would have required a good telescope to do what he claimed to have done with the unassisted eye alone.

“You see I was looking for something of the kind,” 227 he explained, “or mebbe I wouldn’t have obsarved him.”

“Could you tell the color of his eyes?” asked the doubting Ruggles.

“They were as black as coal.”

“It is safe to say that,” remarked the parson, “inasmuch as I never met an Indian who had eyes of any other color.”

“There are such,” said Vose, “and I’ve seen ’em, though I’ll own they’re mighty scarce and I never knowed of any in this part of the world. Howsumever, I won’t purtend that I could see the color of a man’s eyes that fur, but I did see his hair, forehead and a part of his ugly face. He knowed we was behind him all the time, and this one wanted to find out what we was doing. When he larned that, they kept on along the ledge, but there’s no saying how fur they’ll go afore they find something’s gone wrong.”

Captain Dawson showed less interest in this by-play than the others. He was not concerned with what was behind them, so much as with what was in front. The belief was so strong with him that their persistent travel through the night had brought them close to the fugitives that he begrudged the time necessary for the animals to rest and eat.

Parson Brush felt that Adams was acting wisely in giving attention to the rear. It would be the height of 228 folly to disregard these formidable warriors when they meant trouble. Brush rose to his feet and using his palms as did the guide, scanned the country behind them.

He saw nothing of any warrior peering around the rocks, but he did see something, which escaped even the keen vision of Vose Adams himself. Beyond the ledge and a little to the left, he observed a riderless horse, with head high in air, and gazing at something which the two white men could not see. The parson directed the attention of Vose to the animal.

“By gracious! it’s the chief’s horse,” he exclaimed; “do you see that?”

The other two were now looking and all plainly saw a warrior advance into view, approaching the animal, which, instead of being frightened, seemed to recognize his friends, and remained motionless until the Indian came up and grasped the thong about his neck. Then the two passed from sight.

The identical thing prophesied by Vose Adams had occurred under the eyes of the four pursuers. The steed of the dead chieftain had been recovered, and it would not take the hostiles long to penetrate the mystery of the matter. Vose was wise in taking the course he did, and his companions were now inclined to believe his astonishing assertion that he saw one of the 229 number when he peeped around the curving ledge and watched their actions.

However, it would have been absurd to wait where they were in order to learn every move of their enemies, for that would have been a voluntary abandonment of the advantage secured at the cost of so much labor and danger. Captain Dawson insisted that the pursuit should be pressed without any thought of the red men, and Vose consented.

“But there’s one thing we mustn’t forget, captain,” he said, “and that is that it is daytime and not night.”

“I do not catch your meaning,” replied the captain, pausing on the point of moving off to secure his horse.

“It is this: them people in front will keep as sharp an eye to the rear as to the front; more’n likely it will be sharper, and it will be a bad thing if they discover us when we’re two or three miles off.”

“How shall we prevent it?”

“We can do it, if we’re careful. You’ll remember that when you went over this route last, you come upon places where you could see for a mile or more, ’cause the trail was straight and broad, while there are others where you can’t see more’n a hundred yards. Them that I’ve named last is where we must overhaul ’em.”

“That sounds well, Vose,” said the captain, “but I am unable to see how you are going to manage so as to bring that about.”

“While you’re getting the animals ready, I’ll take a look ahead.”

This was not in the nature of an explanation, but the three willingly did their part. Vose disappeared almost instantly, and, though they took but a few minutes to prepare their animals for the resumption of travel, he was back among them, the expression of his face showing that he brought news of importance.

“They ain’t fur off,” he said.

“How far?” asked the captain.

“I can’t say anything more than that we’re purty close to ’em. Let’s push on!”