Leonidas Swipes insisted that he should accompany the expedition. It may have been that he felt an obligation in the matter, thus to seek to repair, in so far as possible, his shame or rather remissness as a sentinel; or, it may be, that his shrewd mind saw a slight opportunity of gaining some knowledge of the five thousand and odd sheep which had been so unceremoniously taken from him.
But Lancaster would not count him as an effective man, and as it came about that the Yankee made the eleventh or odd man, a matter which created much merriment, but no ill will upon the individual concerned.
Mr. Bonfield remained with the emigrant train. At the advice of the guide he agreed to throw up some temporary fortifications, to insure safety in case of attack. It was not at all improbable that the eleven men would be seen as they rode away, by the sharp eye of some prowling Indians, who might deem the occasion just the one, in which to make an attack on the remaining ones in the hope of securing plunder, and perhaps destroying the whole party. The loss of their animals would be an irreparable one just as they were entering that mighty wall of rocks and chasms which separate California from the territories, where every ounce of their animal strength would be needed.
Mr. Bonfield’s intention was to make a sort of “outer wall” to inclose the entire encampment, and from behind which, in case of attack, he and his men could rain their bullets upon the redskins, without fear of return.
The eleven men were mounted on the fleetest and best animals that could be selected from the party, and the sun was hardly above the horizon, when they rode forth in their attempt to rescue Miss Florence Brandon from the hands of Cherouka, the Apache chief.
CHAPTER XI.
PURSUIT.
Fairly outside of the encampment, the little party of hunters struck wide a sweeping gallop toward the hills where Lancaster had discovered the evidence of Cherouka’s having mounted his horse and fled. Here he made another examination of the ground, when he discovered the direction the trail took, his manner showed that it was precisely what he anticipated and desired.
“Do you see that grove yonder?” he asked of his men, pointing toward a clump of trees about a mile distant. As a matter of course all replied in the affirmative.
“Wal, now, we’ll just not notice the trail and strike a bee line for them trees. If we find the trail there, and p’raps a few other horse’s feet, there it is all right and I know just where to look for the Apaches.”
As he spoke he again loosed his rein, and the whole eleven went galloping almost in a compact body across the country, toward the grove which had been indicated. In doing so, all of those who were capable of doing so, observed that they left the trail, in taking another course. They, and among them was our hero, the young hunter, looked upon this proceeding with strong misgivings as to its prudence. It was a comparatively easy matter to follow the footprints of the horses over the open plain, and this leaving it for a doubtful matter, looked like a waste of precious time.