They rode steadily during the night and all through the next day, stopping only at sunrise and at noon for rest and refreshment, more for the benefit of their horses than themselves. When night came, they were in sight of the Black Hills, having traveled more than eighty miles, according to the calculation of Old Blaze, and Silverspur proposed that they should encamp for the night upon an elevation near the creek whose course they had been following.
“Better not,” said the hunter. “The ’Rapahoes are on our trail, no doubt, long afore this, and they will make better time than we do, ’cause they will all hev led hosses, and kin change from tired to fresh when they want to.”
“We have such a start, it seems to me that they will hardly try to follow us, even if they miss us.”
“Don’t ye bet too high on that, boy. Ye’re fooled ef ye think they wouldn’t miss ye, and that right soon. I tell ye, that tradin’ chap is mad, and he’s bound to make mischief. He’s a coward, no doubt; but I reckon the mad in him is bigger’n the coward, by this time. Ye did a wrong thing when ye told the Injuns to turn him loose, and I did a wrong thing when I didn’t shoot him down arter drawin’ a bead onto him.”
“We may have made a mistake. If we did, it was on the side of mercy, and that is the best side.”
“Yaas. I don’t know nothin’ about marcy when I butt up agin’ Injuns and snakes; but it’s a pity that that snake wasn’t killed. The red-skins will be madder than any hornets when they find out the truth of the matter, and the start we’ve got won’t amount to much. I reckon we’d better keep on travelin’.”
“But Dove-eye must be tired. Such a long ride without rest is enough to exhaust any one.”
“It ain’t too much fur a warrior. I’m keen to bet that the gal has traveled a longer stretch than this, when she was fightin’ the Crows.”
“Dove-eye is not tired,” replied the maiden, with a blush at the allusion.
“I’m tired myself, then,” rejoined Silverspur, “and I mean to camp.”