"Do tell him to stop, Ruth!" shrieked Jennie Stone from the rear of the wagon.
The next moment she shot into the air as the wheels on one side bounced over an outcropping boulder. She came down clawing at Helen to save herself from flying out of the end of the wagon.
"Oh! This is too much!" shouted Helen, quite as frightened as her companion. "I mean to get out! Don't a-a-ask me to—to act in moving pictures again. I never will!"
"Talk about rough stuff!" groaned Jennie. "This is the limit."
Neither of them realized the danger that threatened. Of the three girls only Ruth knew what was just ahead. The maddened mules were dragging the emigrant wagon for a pitch into the ravine that boded nothing less than disaster for all.
In the band of Indians riding for the string of covered wagons Wonota had been numbered. She could ride a barebacked pony as well as any buck in the party. She had removed her skirt and rode in the guise of a young brave. The pinto pony she bestrode was speedy, and the Osage maid managed him perfectly.
Long before the train of wagons and the pursuing band of Indians got into the focus of the cameras, Wonota, as well as her companions, saw that the six mules drawing the head wagon were out of control. The dash of the frightened animals added considerable to the realism of the picture, as they swept past Jim Hooley and his camera men; but the director was quite aware that disaster threatened William's outfit.
"Crank it up! Crank it!" he commanded the camera men. "It looks as if we were going to get something bigger than we expected."
Mr. Hammond stood behind him. He saw the three white girls in the rear of the wagon. It was he who shouted:
"That runaway must be stopped! It's Miss Fielding and her friends in that wagon. Stop them!"