The surprise came the next moment, when the clearing sky disclosed not one, but two horsemen, a few rods away. They had halted their ponies and were sitting side by side, evidently studying the camp as if in doubt whether to venture nearer. The first sight showed they were not Indians, but white men. Two equestrian statues could not have been more motionless than they.
Placing one hand as a funnel, Alden called in a low voice:
“Helloa, neighbors! Why don’t you come forward?”
By way of reply the couple twitched their reins and rode to the edge of the camp. Neither dismounted. Alden noted that one was a large, bearded man, while his companion was a youth of about his own age. The two wore broad brimmed hats, which partly hid their features, but when the elder spoke, Alden fancied there was something familiar in his voice.
“Good evening, friends,” he said. “We meant to call earlier, and it has grown so late that we shall defer it to-night. I presume all except the guards have turned in?”
“They did so some time ago; it will not do for us to leave our stations, but we shall be glad to welcome you at any other time. You belong to the company that has gone into camp a little way from here?”
“Yes; we have been in sight of each other for several days; had the situation become threatening because of Indians, I should have proposed that we unite, but everything seems to be peaceful.”
“Have you had no trouble with them?”
“None whatever, though we have seen many parties at a distance.”
“We were attacked one night some weeks ago along the Platte, but drove them off without harm to us.”