The pursuers felt well rewarded for the energy they 212 had displayed in the face of discouragement and danger. Valuable ground had been gained, and even now when they had supposed they were fully a dozen miles behind the fugitives, it looked as if they had really caught up to them, or at least were within hailing distance.
Every eye was fixed on the point which held so intense an interest for them. As the day grew, a thin, wavy column of smoke was observed ascending from the camp fire, which was partly hidden among a growth of scrub cedars, some distance to the right of the trail, whither it must have been difficult for the couple to force their horses.
“That leftenant ought to have knowed better than to do that,” remarked Vose Adams, “his fire can be seen a long way off.”
“What else could they do?” asked the captain.
“The rocks give all the cover he needs.”
“But they could have no idea that we were so near,” suggested the parson.
“It isn’t that, but the leftenant had ’nough ’sperience with Injins on his way through here before to know he’s liable to run agin them at any time. I never dared to do a thing like that on my trips.”
“Let’s push on,” said the captain, who saw no reason for tarrying now that they had located the game.
The ground was so much more favorable that the 213 animals were forced to a canter, though all were in need of rest. Little was said, and Captain Dawson spurred forward beside Adams, who as usual was leading.
Wade Ruggles and Parson Brush also rode abreast. They were far enough to the rear to exchange a few words without being overheard.