"Wild horses?" marveled the boys.
"Wish we could see them," said Tad.
"I'll wager they have seen us already, for they surely are in this neighborhood," replied Parry. "But a wild horse is as sharp as an old fox. The herd have been down in the foothills and, by the hoofprints, you will observe that they have returned to the mountain fastness."
"Perhaps they saw us coming," suggested Tad.
"More than likely," agreed the guide. "They were in a hurry and moving rapidly—there! There's the leader's trail. Look carefully and you will see where he leaped up to this little butte here. Reaching it, he turned about and took a quick, comprehensive look at the desert."
"And at us," added Stacy.
"Yes, I think so. Come up here. You see this little ridge gave him a very good view of the desert maze. See if you can tell how many wild horses there were in the bunch," suggested Tom Parry.
Instantly the boys went down on all fours, crawling along the trail seeking to read the story that it told.
"Well, how many?" queried the guide, after they had finished their inspection.
"Fifty!" shouted Stacy.