"They're coming!" interrupted Lawson.
"Where? Where?"
"The sentinels are signalling again."
All turned to the east, but nothing could be seen—no smoke, no dust, no sign of horsemen—yet the swift circling of the sentinels and the turmoil among the warriors on the butte indicated the menace of an approaching army. Another little band detached itself from the huddle of the camp and came down the hill, slowly and in single file.
"The squaws are coming for their children, even before Wolf Robe reaches them," said Lawson.
"And there's the mob!" said Curtis, and at his words a keen thrill of fear ran through the hearts of the women. With set, pale faces they looked away beneath levelled finger.
"That's right," said Wilson, "and two hundred strong."
The sad-colored horsemen were pouring over a high, pine-clad ridge some two miles to the east, and streaming down into a narrow valley behind a sharp intervening butte.
"Now, girls, you must go in!" commanded Curtis, sharply. "You can do no good—"
"George, let us stay!" pleaded Jennie. "We saved you yesterday, and we may help to-day."