"They are on the watch for us, of course; how far away do you judge the trail to be?"
"Several miles; it seems odd to me that they should ride so far south, instead of staying nearer to it."
"It is plain enough to me; they fear that if we caught sight of them, as we should be sure to do, we would hurry back to the house, where they should have less chance against us. By keeping hidden, so that we could not discover our danger until too far away from home, they could ride in behind us and cut off our escape in that direction. But how are we to escape them?"
"We passed an arroya a little way back: let us take to that, and there isn't a minute to lose."
The youth hastily climbed into the saddle, and turned the nose of Jack about, so that he went back directly over his own hoof-prints. A little distance, and they struck a narrow valley-like depression, which wound further to the south than the course they were pursuing at the moment of the startling interruption. He entered this at once, the others directly at his heels, the animals walking fast, but with a silence that made one suspect they understood the danger that threatened all.
The arroya, as it is termed in some parts of the country, was a straight passage, resembling a gully, between banks a dozen feet in height. It looked as if it had been washed out years before, by some violent rush of waters, which soon ran itself dry, leaving the abrupt banks, facing each other, at varying distances of from ten to fifty feet.
In some places these banks of clay were perpendicular, so that a horse, once within the gorge, could not leave it at many points, while in others, the dirt had tumbled in to an extent which made it easy for him to climb out.
The course of the arroya was devious, and there was no saying when it would terminate by rising to the level of the prairie. At most, it could be but a temporary refuge for the fugitives.
The thought occurred to both father and son that the Indians must soon discover this refuge, which would be welcome to them and their animals while the piercing blast was sweeping across the prairie. The eddying snow had almost ceased, but the wind blew fitfully, and whenever it touched the face or bare hand, it was like a needle of ice. The American Indian is one of the toughest of creatures, but he does not disdain shelter for himself and beast from the merciless blizzard, or driving tempest. Many of those gathered about Pine Ridge, during the critical days in '90-'91, found protection in the pockets of earth in the gullies, where they peered out like wild animals on the alert for a chance to spring at the blue-coated sentinel, without risk to themselves.
If the arroya should hold its general course southward for several miles, the little party might successfully escape the hostiles, who intruded between them and the agency. The afternoon was wearing away, and the night would be moonless and starless. Our friends hoped, if they escaped until then, to lessen greatly the distance between them and Pine Ridge.