Therefore, he was not a little surprised at the words of his enemy, nor did his amazement retard his progress.
A moment and he was beyond the range of vision, having vanished among the trees.
Pandy Ellis, the trapper chief, was alone. He did not stay in his exposed position long, however, knowing full well the treacherous character of the foes he had to deal with, but plunging among the undergrowth himself, in a direction almost opposite to the one taken by the Indian, he made his way along, aiming for a certain spot.
This proved to be a small creek, on the further bank of which his horse was tethered.
Crossing over, the ranger mounted and rode away. The animal he bestrode was no mustang, but a tall, broad-breasted horse, capable not only of carrying heavy burdens and making fast time, but also of keeping up his pace.
Many years ago Pandy owned a quaint steed called Old Nancy, and in memory of that faithful equine friend had this animal been named.
Reaching the prairie, the ranger dashed out upon the open space and cantered along toward the north.
The grass was already high, and dotted here and there with beautiful wild flowers, that seemed to make the scene one of enchantment.
His gray eyes swept both the horizon and the ground before him with customary caution.
All at once the ranger brought Nancy to an abrupt halt, threw himself from the saddle and bent down to examine tracks in the soft earth.