“We’ll fix that up to-morrow. We’ll see to-night where they go.”
The approaching horses soon swept past the hiding-place of the two trappers, and turning abruptly disappeared from sight at the entrance to one of the valleys.
“They will stay there all night,” said Kit Carson quickly. “Come on now, lad, we’ll go back to camp.”
“What makes you think they will stay all night? They may leave before morning.”
Kit Carson smiled and shook his head, but made no further response, and in a brief time, delaying only until they had secured a few rabbits and a deer which they chanced to see, soon rejoined their companions.
For some reason Kit Carson was silent concerning their visit at the Indian village, and Reuben himself naturally did not refer to it. The leader, however, made much of the drove of wild horses, and it was plain that the young scout’s enthusiasm increased as he described the strength and beauty of the black pony at its head.
“I must have him,” he said.
“That’s easy to say,” suggested one of the men. “I have heard others talk the same way, but when you run down a pony like that you’ll have your work cut out for you.”
“But I’m going to get him,” said Kit confidently. “And I’ll tell you how.”
In a low voice he explained to his companions the plan which he had formed for catching the black leader. Every man in the camp was interested, but when at last they sought their tents it had been decided that only Reuben and two others were to share in the attempt.