Bob heard a crunching noise behind him and turned his head to find that Ted Hoyt too had been unable to stand the strain of waiting uncertain as to what was happening to his friends.
Suddenly the still and silent air was rent by a noise that has no equal in the world. It was the blood-curdling war whoop of an Indian. Coming so close to their ears, although they had been expecting it, the boys nearly jumped out of their skins with terror.
Feather-in-the-Wind had given the signal to his men. A moment later answering whoops seemed to come from all parts of the compass and these were emphasized by a rattle of rifle shots.
Bob jumped to his feet and began pulling the trigger of his revolver as fast as his fingers would work. Then, yelling, he followed Ted and the Apache in the rush down the hillside.
The Mexicans, surprised by the suddenness of the attack, did not wait to fire many shots in return. A mad scramble for their horses was taking place and dimly Bob saw the outlines of the marauders string out at a mad gallop.
When on a dead run he reached the foot of the hill, all the Mexicans had gone, fleeing from what they supposed was a trap.
Feather-in-the-Wind had become separated from them, but his plan had worked! This was Bob’s first thought, but his exultation was cut short by the most surprising event of this eventful night!
The clear notes of a bugle rang forth in the thrilling signal to charge!