“I don’t believe it,” he exclaimed, still speeding furiously onward.
“Go it, Todd! you’ll fetch up at Fort Laramie,” yelled Biddon.
The latter drew his horse into a steady canter, and indulged in several loud laughs at the flying fugitive. Nat continued his mad career until he had gone a good distance, when, seeing how far behind he had left us, he reined up and awaited our approach.
The savages, in the meantime, were hurrying on in pursuit. I know not what led them to expect any success in this chase, for, as remarked, not one was mounted. They may have had little faith in the speed or bottom of our horses, and trusted they would be able to run us down. Biddon half turned in his seat, and, looking back a moment, asked:
“Do you see that red, diggin’ like all mad off on one side? The one as is tryin’ to surround us?”
I glanced back and answered in the affirmative.
“Do you want to see a red drop in purty style?”
I answered again in the affirmative.
“Wal, jis keep yer peeper on him.”