Nobody stopped to ask why, but obeyed one whom they knew to be the most experienced member of the party, and his tone of voice was so eager and intense that all thought the time had come for a good shot, as dropping from their saddles they stood ready to fire over their ponies’ heads.
“Well, where’s the game?” said the doctor, after a few moments’ silence.
“Here, sir,” said Griggs hoarsely. “We’re it if we’ve been seen.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look yonder, sir, over the grass out towards the desert where there’s that golden shimmer above the plain.”
“I don’t see—yes, I do. Stoop, stoop, every one, or we shall be seen, if it isn’t too late.”
There was a quick movement amongst the party, every head being lowered—every one stooping a little to peer over the level top of the grass, to see as it were a panorama of black figures moving along a golden band, a party of some thirty or forty mounted Indians walking their ponies in single file, as if going in the same direction as the explorers, and not a quarter of a mile away.
“Haven’t they seen us, Griggs?” whispered the doctor.
“Don’t know yet, sir,” said the American, “but if they haven’t they must be half blind. Yes, they’ve seen us, for certain, I should say, and they’re bearing inward so as to cut us off.”