To this wise remark Red Feather gave no answer, but continued peering in the same direction as before.
"If there is one horseman there is likely to be more——"
Melville cut short his own words, and whistled cautiously, checking that with equal suddenness, through fear of offending his friend.
But the chief showed no displeasure, and, before anything could be said, the form of a riderless horse came out of the gloom and trotted forward with a faint neigh of pleasure.
"Saladin, my own Saladin!" exclaimed the delighted youth, flinging his arms around the outstretched neck, and actually touching his lips to the silken nose of the noble steed.
"Saladin, old fellow, I'm proud of you," said Melville; "the Sioux did their best to steal you away from us, but you were too smart for them. One was cruel enough to shoot at you, but it don't look as if he did any damage."
The youth could not resist the temptation to place his foot in the stirrup, and leap into the saddle, where he was "at home."
"Now, Red Feather," he added, "things are beginning to look up; I can relieve you of carrying Dot; the truth is that after we cross the stream I shall feel safe. Under heaven, we owe everything to you; but you need go no farther with us."
"Ain't safe," said the chieftain sententiously; "Injins all round—Red Feather go all way home wid pappoose."