Picketing the horses to keep them from straying, they ate again. On this occasion Loseis insisted on being allowed to stand the first watch; and Conacher dispatched her to the top of the rise, while he rolled up in his blanket.
In the afternoon he relieved her. From the top of the rise it was evident that this was the highest point in many miles around. To Conacher lying in the grass smoking, it seemed as if half the world was spread before him. In that crystal clearness he could even trace the line of the valley of Blackburn’s River. The easterly horizon was closed in by the land rising on the other side of the river. The pale green sea of the prairie between was always the same, and never quite the same. Apparently every yard of it was open to his vision; but Conacher knew from past experience that this was not so. Every swell of the land melted so softly into the swell beyond that one could not guess the hollow between. Conacher remembered the old-time stories of how the Indians could steal up on the wagon-trains camped in the open prairie.
As if evoked by that thought he saw Indians riding towards him then. It was what he was looking for and least desired to see. He glimpsed them as they crossed a hollow; a moment later they trotted over a little rise. There were three of them, they were less than a mile away; they were heading directly for the spot where he lay. This time an encounter could not be avoided. All his high hopes came tumbling down like a house of cards.
Conacher ran down the hill to alarm his camp. There was no time to ride away. Best for them to keep the shelter they had. A word told Loseis and Mary-Lou what was upon them. They led the horses close up behind the bluff of trees, and tied them. They scattered the remaining embers of the fire, and beat them out. Conacher and Loseis took up a position within the trees facing the summit of the rise, gun in hand. The girl’s face was pale and resolute.
“I can shoot straight, too,” she said quietly.
They waited.
“All three of them are together now,” said Conacher. “We must get them all. And their horses too. If we get them all it will be some time before Gault learns what has happened. We will still have a chance.”
The three horsemen appeared at the top of the rise, and reined up. They were quite at their ease. Each slung a leg over his saddle to rest, and produced a pipe. There they stayed, silhouetted against the tender blue sky. One had a pair of field-glasses which was passed from hand to hand. Conacher and Loseis instinctively drew back a little further amongst the saplings. Suddenly the horses behind them whinnied; and Conacher groaned in bitterness of spirit.
However, at that moment a small troop of wild horses appeared out of a depression to the north. Led by a bay stallion with arched neck and streaming tail, they trotted past. In the chorus of neighing and whinnying which arose, the sounds made by Conacher’s horses escaped the notice of the Crees.
After what seemed like an age-long wait to the watchers hidden in the poplars, the three Indians slipped out of their saddles, tightened girths and mounted again.