"Yes; but it halts."
"I know it, with the off foreleg."
At this moment the Coras summoned them: he had turned the course of the stream, and the traces of a horse's hoofs could be distinctly traced in the sand.
"Do you see?" said Valentine.
"Yes," Curumilla remarked; "but he is alone."
"Hang it, so he is."
The two warriors looked at him in amazement.
"Listen," Valentine said, after a moment's reflection, "this is a false trail. On reaching this stream, where it was impossible for him not to leave signs, Red Cedar, supposing that we should look for them in the water, crossed the stream alone, although it would be easy for men less accustomed to the desert than ourselves to suppose that a party had crossed here. Look down there on the other side, at a horse's marks. Red Cedar wanted to be too clever; showing us a trail at all has ruined him. The rest of the band, which he joined again presently, instead of crossing, descended the bed of the stream to the Gila, where they embarked and passed to the other side of the river."
The two Indians, on hearing this clear explanation, could not repress a cry of admiration. Valentine burst the dyke, and with their help formed another one hundred yards below, a short distance from the Gila. The bed of the stream was hardly dry, ere the two Indians clapped their hands, while uttering exclamations of delight.
Valentine had guessed aright: this time they had discovered the real trail, for the bed of the stream had been trampled by a large band of horses.