followed a little rise, and, as this was topped, Blake, who had taken the lead for a short distance, uttered a cry and pointed forward with a eager hand.
"What is it?" cried Joe and Hank together.
"There they are!" yelled Blake. "The Indians! Right below us! Come on!"
Riding to his side, the others saw a sharp descent, then a level plain stretching away for many miles. And moving slowly over this plain was a band of about twenty-five Indians, mounted on ponies that seemed scarcely able to move.
"That's them!" cried Hank, as he dug his heels into the sides of his horse. "At 'em, boys! A short, swift gallop will bring us up to 'em now, and then—well, we'll see what will happen!"
"Come on!" yelled Blake, and side by side the trio rode down into the valley, their animals seeming to take on new strength as they saw their quarry before them.
"They've noticed us!" exclaimed Blake.
"That's right!" agreed Hank. "Well, now to see if we can catch 'em!"
A movement amid the stragglers of the band told that they had glimpsed the approach of the whites. There was a distant shout, and at once the whole party was galloping off.
