"It iss so," said Arenberg with deep feeling. "You have helped all the rest of us, and we would not be fit to live if we did not now help you."
"I knew that you would not think of anything else," said Breakstone simply. "I'll tell you about it a little later, but now we'll start as soon as we can, and maybe we can come back some day and enjoy The Silver Cup again."
The horses were brought from the sheltered valley, and their provisions and other supplies were strapped on them. They soon discovered that Billy knew how to ride very well, and the gentlest of the horses was assigned to him, although he slept during the early part of the night. But when he was roused he was full of zeal and interest, and he was also so alert and active that he proved himself a help instead of a burden.
At midnight, they put out the fire and left a cold hearth. Then, with some reluctant glances backward at The Dip and the snowy cover of The Silver Cup, they rode away in single file, Breakstone leading, Phil next, followed by John, behind whom came Billy, with Arenberg at the rear. It was cold, but they were sufficiently clad, and they rode on until daylight, the dry snow crunching beneath the hoofs of their horses.
The descent proved to be sharp, and when daylight came they were in a region where the snow was very light. They saw the plains before them and below them, and they believed that by noon they would be entirely beyond the expanse of snow.
"By the time those Comanches discover our abandoned home," said Bill Breakstone, "it's likely that we'll be days and days away. We'll never see them again because our journey leads west and always west, far beyond the Comanche country."
"I learned from Billy," said Phil, "that it was really Black Panther who was in command back there. Billy had been with another band, farther west, which last spring was incorporated into the more powerful force of Black Panther. The chief was treating Billy well, and was going to adopt him as his son."
"Then I am glad that we shall fight no more with Black Panther," said Arenberg.
"So am I," said Breakstone thoughtfully. "I suppose the chief has acted according to his lights. If we'd been roaming over the country for ages, we'd fight for it, too. Well, good-by to you, Black Panther, I wish you many a good buffalo hunt, but that no white people may fall into your hands."
At noon, as they had expected, they passed through the last thin sheet of snow and entered warm country. But it was not desert here. It was a region of buffalo grass, with shallow streams and scattered timber. It was very pleasant after so much riding through the snow, and, after resting an hour by the side of one of the rivulets, they kept on until night. They were not compelled to spend any time in hunting a camp, but stopped under a clump of trees, turned the horses loose to graze on the plentiful grass, and spread their own blankets on the turf. They were too tired to light a fire, but they ate heartily of the cold food, and then lay back comfortably on the blankets. Billy fell asleep in a few minutes, but the others did not yet feel the desire for slumber. The ride of a day and half a night had not been hard, but, as much of that ride had been downward, the change was wonderful. Gone was the deep snow, gone the biting winds. They wrestled with neither the ice nor the desert, but lay upon a carpet of pine needles and breathed an air that came, crisp with life, from the mountains. Bill Breakstone luxuriated in it, and finally, observing that the others were not asleep, he sat up.