In the Hands of the Cave-Dwellers

by G. A. Henty

"That is all right," Antonio said. "The Indians do not shoe their horses, so we may be sure it was the señorita."

The path soon began to descend again, and in an hour from the time of starting they emerged from the pass within one hundred yards of the river; the ground here being soft, a well-marked track was visible.

"Made by our people," the chief said, turning round. "They often cross ford to hunt on the other side—large forests there, two hours' ride away—good hunting-ground. Apache not come there. Hills too big to cross."

Beyond the river the track was for some time perfectly distinct, but it presently became fainter. However, as the Indians rode on rapidly, Will had no doubt that, although he could not see the tracks on the ground, they were plain enough to the eyes of the Indians.

"It is a mighty good job we have the chief with us," Antonio said. "The trail is plain enough at present, but it is sure to get fainter when we get into these forests they speak of. Probably it goes straight enough there, but once among the trees it will break up, as the Indians would scatter to hunt. We should have lost a lot of time following it. Now we have got these two red-skin fellows, they will pick it up almost as fast as we can ride."

The road, indeed, after passing over a rocky plateau, dipped suddenly down into a deep valley running up from the river, and extending as far as one could see almost due east among the hills. The track they were following turned to the right at the foot of the hill. For miles it was clearly defined, then gradually became fainter, as the Indians who had followed it turned off in search of game. The footprints of the shod horse continued straight up the valley, until, ten miles from the point at which they had entered it, they turned to the left.

"It has been going at a walk for some miles," the chief said, "and the white girl has been walking beside it. I saw her footprints many times. We shall find that she halted for the night at the little stream in the middle of the valley. It must have been getting dark when she arrived here. She must be a good horsewoman and have a good horse under her, for it is nearly eighty miles from here to the hacienda."

By the stream, indeed, they found the place where Clara had slept. The Indian pointed to spots where the horse had cropped the grass by the edge of the stream, and where it had at last lain down near its mistress, who had, as a few crumbs showed, eaten some of the cakes.

"I wonder we don't see one of the bottles," Will remarked.

Antonio translated his remarks to the chief, who said, "Girl wise; fill bottle with water; not know how far stream come. We halt here; cannot follow trail farther; soon come dark."