“I thought they rarely came so far north. I have never seen any of them till yesterday.”
The hunter laughed as he answered.
“There’s no need of your taking the trouble to tell us that; I never ’sposed you have. True, the most of ’em sticks down in New Mexico, Texas and around there, but they often come further north, just to get a chance to stretch their limbs.”
“But how can you tell them from the Apaches who resemble them so closely?”
“That is rather a nice point, I’ll own,” said Lancaster, “with some professional points, but the fact is, that since we’ve been sitting on our horses, riding and listening, I’ve heard a scream given by one of the dogs, that I’ve heard afore and that always came from the throat of a full blooded Comanche.”
“It strikes me that if such is the case, the best thing we can do is to get out of this region as rapidly as possible.”
This was really the most sensible remark Fred Wainwright had made for some time; and feeling it to be such, he was not a little confused to see that it attracted scarcely any attention. Finally, Lancaster, who was still looking toward the tumultuous crowd which was passing toward them, remarked,
“They’re going to pass to the north of us, between us and the Point.”
“But they’ll see us.”
“What if they do?”