CHAPTER XI.

PURSUIT.

Fairly outside of the encampment, the little party of hunters struck wide a sweeping gallop toward the hills where Lancaster had discovered the evidence of Cherouka’s having mounted his horse and fled. Here he made another examination of the ground, when he discovered the direction the trail took, his manner showed that it was precisely what he anticipated and desired.

“Do you see that grove yonder?” he asked of his men, pointing toward a clump of trees about a mile distant. As a matter of course all replied in the affirmative.

“Wal, now, we’ll just not notice the trail and strike a bee line for them trees. If we find the trail there, and p’raps a few other horse’s feet, there it is all right and I know just where to look for the Apaches.”

As he spoke he again loosed his rein, and the whole eleven went galloping almost in a compact body across the country, toward the grove which had been indicated. In doing so, all of those who were capable of doing so, observed that they left the trail, in taking another course. They, and among them was our hero, the young hunter, looked upon this proceeding with strong misgivings as to its prudence. It was a comparatively easy matter to follow the footprints of the horses over the open plain, and this leaving it for a doubtful matter, looked like a waste of precious time.

However, Ward Lancaster was the leader of the expedition, and he was the last one who should attempt to gainsay any command of his.

A few minutes brisk ride brought them to the grove in question; and on the very edge of the timber, the eyes of all were gladdened by a sight of fresh tracks of horses.

“What I expected,” remarked Lancaster, as his grey eyes sparkled with pleasure. “The rest of the dogs waited him.”

“How many of them?”

“Only a half dozen; don’t you see where their horses have gnawed the bark off the trees? Six of ’em.”

“I swan we ought to be able to manage _them_, without difficulty,” remarked Swipes. “Just foller ’em up, sail in a dash around: that’s my advice.”

“It wouldn’t do,” replied Fred with a shake of the head, while Lancaster did not deem it worth while to notice the Yankee’s ignorance.

“Why not? I tell you, my friend, that’s just the thing, and jingo, I claim the credit of originating that’ere idea. Like all of mine it’s rather hefty.”

“It is about the most foolish plan that could be proposed,” said Fred, a little anxious to take some of the conceit out of the fellow, “and is the one which would be sure to be the death of the girl, we hope to rescue.”

“What’s that?” he demanded in amazement.

“It is the quickest plan that could be devised to ensure Miss Brandon’s death.”

“Show me how,” added Swipes, with the air of a man who had proposed an unsoluble puzzle. “Demonstrate that as we say in geometry.”

“Suppose now that we should catch sight of this party of Apaches, out on the prairie, and should dash away after them at the top of our speed. There are six of them and eleven of us: what do you suppose would happen?”

“They’d drop the lady like a hot potatoe, or else put her in a safe position and then turn round and fight us.”

The young hunter laughed.

“Neither; they would see that there was no chance of getting the girl away, when they would tomahawk her, leave her dead on the plain, and then do their best to take care of themselves.”

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Swipes, perfectly aghast, “that would never do! Tell, Mr. Lancaster, I recall that advice, and do not risk him to follow it out.”

“There is no necessity of going to that trouble.”

“Yes; why not?”

“Because there is no danger of his following it; he knows too much; and, Mr. Swipes, you will allow me to suggest that it looks rather out of place for you or me, who never saw a prairie, except a short time ago, to attempt to advise a man who hunted upon them before either of us were born.”

Leonidas could only stare his surprise, as the hunter allowed his horse to walk around to a point a few yards away, where Lancaster was earnestly discussing some matter with several of his friends.

“That’s cool,” muttered the Yankee, as he gazed after him, “but I swan, I think it served me about right; that’ere Lancaster knows more about the prairies, and the mountains and Indians in one week than I could learn in my life time; so, after this, I’ll keep still that is so far as giving advice is concerned, though I do think I might give him a good idea now and then.”

As Lancaster was talking about something which interested all, Swipes concluded to join the group around him, and learn what it all meant. Just as he did so, it seemed matters reached a decision.

“I’m satisfied,” said Lancaster, with a decided shake of his head, “I know just what point them dogs are aiming at.”

“Where is that?”

“The Chevenine Hills.”

“And where are they?” asked several.

The trapper turned his head, as if he expected to see them, and then answered.

The guide now spoke as a man speaks who has been long debating a matter in his mind, and has at length reached a decision.

“I might have knowed you couldn’t see the Chevenine Hills; they’re off to the South, a good fifty miles from here. There’s many a traveler that remembers them, for it’s a great place for Apaches; they hide in there, and you never see nothin’ of ’em, till they come yelling and whooping down from the hills and woods, and sail through the train, shouting, tomahawking and raising all the hair they can. That’s where these dogs have gone, or have started to go and we must head them off.”

“Why do you think so?” ventured several who felt this was too serious a matter to run much risk about.

“If any of you had ever seen the place you wouldn’t ax me the question. The reason why I think so is this: The Chevenine Hills may be said to be the gate of the Apache country—that is from a hundred miles around these parts. From here to there is a broad level plain, and south of them for a hundred miles stretches a low level valley, making the best kind of a country for traveling for horses and men, while if you take any other route, you’ve mighty rough traveling through the mountains, and canons and rocks.”

“But have they not got too far ahead of us?”

“Don’t think they have; they’ve got only a few hours’ start, and have gone along the eastern ridge which would carry them ten miles to the north till they got pretty near the hills, when they’d have to bend to the right of course. Then they’ve got the gal and they’ll travel more careful than if they hadn’t her; for when a feller is in love with a gal he’s mighty careful how he treats her. Isn’t that so, Fred Wainwright?”

“How should I know?” responded the young hunter, his face turning the color of scarlet.

“You’re right,” Leonidas Swipes hastened to say. “_I_ can answer that question by experience. When a young man is in love, he’s sure to treat his young lady as tender as if she’s a sick kitten.”

“You see we’ll take the western side or ridge of this plain; this will keep, the two parties so far apart that there’ll be no danger of our running together, and we’ll do some pretty sharp riding and get there ahead and be ready to nab ’em when they come up.”

“Suppose we are mistaken after all,” remarked Mr. Templeton.

“How do you mean?” enquired Lancaster.

“They may get in ahead of us.”

“Can’t do it,” was the decided reply. “If we’re mind to put our horses to it, we can get six hours ahead of ’em.”

“But they may have taken another route.”

“All I’ve got to say then, Mr. Templeton, is that if you know so much you’d better take charge of the business and work it out to suit yourself.”

Mr. Templeton looked at the wrathful trapper a moment, then quietly smiled and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Now you don’t say so, Ward, do you? Are you really in ‘_airnest_’? Let’s take a _chew_.”

With which he thrust an enormous plug of tobacco under the nose of the trapper, who was compelled to smile in spite of himself.

“I guess I’ll take a chaw,” said he, thrusting the whole piece in his mouth and then changing his mind, and wrenching off about a third he added as he stowed the rest somewhere about his person.

“In course you don’t want it after it has been in my mouth, so I’ll just save it till I want another chaw. Come, boys, we’re losing time; let’s be off.”

And without parleying further, Ward Lancaster struck his horse into a rapid gallop, the others following rapidly behind.

“Git up! Confound you!” called out Swipes, “I swan if I can get this horse off this infarnal trot which nearly jolts the life out of me.”

But at this point, the animal broke into a rapid canter, and it may be said that the real journey began. It was yet early in the day, and the horses being fresh, and numbering the very best that the emigrant train could afford, they were fully able to bear a strain.

And the guide did not spare them. He took the eastern route, where the traveling was somewhat rougher, and his gallop soon grew into what almost was a run. The sun reached the meridian, and still he did not show any signs of abating his speed. When it was considerably past, they reined up near a small stream, watered their horses and gave them a breathing spell.

Leonidas Swipes rode up beside the guide and said,

“I say, Mr. Lancaster, wouldn’t it be a rather good idea to—that is to take lunch just now?”

“You can stay and eat if you choose, but the rest of us don’t wait for that; or they can eat on the way, but we don’t stop agin till we’re among the Chevenine Hills. Come, boys, we’ve no time to wait.”

And they remounted and sped away.