"So. Well. Now, be ye rested? We want to git to old Sanchez' fur a good supper and a soft bed to-night."
The boys rose with alacrity. Hill bade them mount his powerful horse, and walked beside them.
Sanchez' house was only three miles away, but the road lay through chaparral which sprang across in many places. It was heavy dusk when they emerged. For some time past they had heard wild eccentric cries, and their three pistols were cocked. As they rode through a grove of trees beyond the chaparral, they saw a dark something rolling toward them. In an instant Hill had snatched the boys from the horse and swung them to the limb of a tree.
"Hide yourselves among the leaves," he said, "and don't even breathe mor' 'n you kin help."
He gave the horse a sharp cut with his switch and it galloped on; then he climbed a neighbouring tree with the agility of a wildcat, and crouched.
The boys gazed into the dusk with distended eyes. The cloud came on with inconceivable rapidity. In a moment it outlined itself. Those were living creatures, fleeing. A stampede? No, men. . . . What? Indians?
They were within a hundred yards now, and their lithe naked forms, the tomahawks and bows and arrows gripped in their clenched hands, could plainly be seen; a moment later, their evil faces, distorted with fear. In the middle distance behind them was a huge column of fire. A strange figure seemed leaping among the flames. It was from this scarlet column that the strange noises came. The Indians made no sound beyond their impact with the atmosphere.
They deflected suddenly and passed to the right of the grove; a moment later the three in ambush heard them crashing through the brush. Hill waited until the sound had grown faint in the distance before he swung himself down and helped the boys to the ground.
"That was a close shave," he said. "Them was murderin' savages, no weak-kneed Mission variety. I'd give two cents to know what scared 'em and what's goin' on over yonder. They were on the rampage, which same means thievin' and killin', or my name ain't Jim Hill."
"We're used to Indians," said Adan, with gentle pride.