CHAPTER X
THE WAR CLUB'S FALL
When Will awoke in the cold dawn he found the herd still passing, though it showed signs of diminution in both breadth and density. After breakfast he climbed the cottonwood again, and took another long and searching look through the glasses.
"I can't yet see the end of the advancing herd under the rim of the horizon," he announced when he descended, "but, as you can tell from the ground, it's thinning out."
"Which means thar'll no longer be a river cutting us off from the hoss Indians on the south," said the Little Giant, "an' which means, too, that it's time fur us to light out from here an' foller the trail."
Curving considerably toward the north for fear of the Indian hunters, who were likely to be where the buffaloes were, they rode at a good pace over the plain, the pack horses and mules following readily without leading. Their curve finally took them so far toward the north that the swells of the plain hid the buffalo herd—only Will's glasses disclosing traces of the dust cloud—and the thunder of its passage no longer reached their ears.
Near sundown they came to a low ridge covered with bushes, and deciding that it was an excellent place for a camp they rode into the thick of it until sure also from the presence of tree growth that they would find water not far away. Will was the first to dismount and as he went over the crest and down the slope in search of a stream or pool, he uttered a cry of horror.