They stood and watched the storm as it raged, and when there was a momentary cessation Howard threw his blanket over his head and said:
"I will run out to the edge of that rock and see whether there is any water in the place where we took our dinner."
"Be careful yez don't tumble over," admonished Tim, feeling it his duty to say something.
"Never fear."
Howard stepped hastily to the spot and looked carefully over. A tiny stream was just beginning to run through the path they had occupied, which was increasing each moment, and would speedily reach the proportions of a torrent. But, although he saw this, there was something which interested him still more, and that was a party of five Indians attentively examining the remains of the antelope, and the signs around it, as if they were seeking their explanation. They looked down to the ground, and two of them pointed precisely in the direction which Tim and Howard had taken in leaving the place.
The rain began falling again more copiously than ever, but Howard would not have heeded it had he not been shrouded in the water-proof blanket. Those Indians had found their camp-fire and were at that moment discussing the best method of capturing him and Tim; but the rain came down so furiously that they finally darted away to seek shelter, and Howard thereupon hurried back to his friend and told him all that he had seen.
"That settles the matter," he added. "Elwood is in their hands, and if we aint careful we shall be with him, for they are searching for us."
"But they can't find us—that they can't."
"Why not?"
"This rain will wipe out our tracks as aisy as if yees had taken a cloth and done it yourself."