They reached the point of junction, and turned to the right, all riding on a walk, for they did not feel like hurrying until they had full opportunity to do so.
Naturally all were in exuberant spirits, and they were chatting with each other, and laughing at the jokes of Teddy O’Doherty. They had gone several hundred yards beyond the bifurcation of the cañon, and a gradual rise in the ground was perceptible, when Black Tom and old Stebbins suddenly drew their horses back on their haunches with a sudden imprecation.
“Look!” exclaimed Lamora, her face pale with excitement.
Following the direction of her finger, Hammond saw the cañon literally swarming with Blackfeet Indians! They were all mounted, and had completely blocked up the way in front of them.
“It’s no go thar!” exclaimed Black Tom, as he wheeled his horse about. “Turn about and dash down the kenyon, and ride fur life, fur we’re in a bad fix.”
“See there!” gasped Lamora again.
All paused, transfixed with horror; for their retreat was blocked up by full as many Indians as was their advance! They were inextricably hemmed in!