"Here is the track," and the man held the torch down and showed the impress of Maj's feet on the ground.
"No, that's a wolf," said the chief.
"The foot of the mountain wolf is not so large," said the keen observer, "nor has it long hairs on its toes as has the creature that made this track."
Like all leaders, the chief did not like to be so openly contradicted by one under him, and he was again about to protest that he was right, and it was a wolf that had been at the spring, when, as if to set all doubts at rest, the fierce barking of a dog could be heard at the top of the hill and not more than two hundred yards away.
Maj, in some way, had slipped his muzzle and escaped Ike's hold and was now making himself heard outside the rocks, among which Sam and his friends were hiding.
The instant the Indians heard the sound they seized their arms and sprang away from the light of the fire.
As luck, rather than design, had it, they ran in the direction where Ulna was hiding, and before he could think of rising to his feet they were about him.
The brave fellow stuck close to the ground, and he might have escaped had not one of the Apaches stumbled and fell on top of him.
The savage gave a yell of fear, but at the same instant he seized Ulna and held him fast.
"What is wrong there?" demanded the chief, as he hurried in the direction from which the cry came.