Strung out along the narrow streamlet, which scarcely covered the hoofs of the horses, the rest waited for his return. The mosquitoes were bad, and the tormented horses twisted, turned, pawed the mud, and slapped their tails about. Walter made his way among the willows to Elise’s side to be at hand if her mount should become unmanageable. But they exchanged only a word or two. The oppression of the night and the danger lay too heavy upon them both.
After what seemed a long time, Louis returned. “The coulee ends a little way ahead,” he reported. “The stream comes from a wet marsh that we must go around. I have found a place where we can climb the right bank.”
Without further words, he took hold of the bridle of his mother’s horse and led it through the willows and up a dry gully. The gully was one of the channels by which the marsh waters, during spring floods and rainy periods, found their way into the coulee. The prairie at the head of the gully was dry in July, the marsh being shrunken to dry weather proportions.
There was a certain relief in being up on the open plain again. For one thing there was more light. The western sky was banked with clouds. Over there lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, but the moon remained uncovered. Looking back to the northwest across the flat prairie, Walter could see, against the dark clouds, the glow of the fires in the Indian camp. A flash of lightning showed the pointed tips of the tipis black against the white light.
It seemed a long time since the fugitives had gone down into the coulee. The boy was disappointed and alarmed to find that they had not come farther. Had the Indians discovered their absence yet? He scanned the prairie for moving figures. To his great relief he could see not one. Not even a buffalo or a wolf appeared to be abroad on that wide, moonlit expanse. Only an occasional puff of breeze stirred the tall grass.
The party were gathered together at the head of the gully. Louis was speaking, and Walter turned to listen.
“We can go faster now, but one must go ahead to keep the course and——”
“You must do that, Louis,” Neil interrupted. “You are guide. It is your place. The two girls will have to ride one horse.”
Louis hesitated. “It is not right for me to ride away and leave you three to follow on foot.”
“It is the only way,” put in Walter. “The ponies can’t carry us all. The others can’t go on without a guide. You will have to do it, Louis. We won’t be far behind.”