“See him come! He will break his neck,” worried Nora.
Tom halted at his pony’s side, for he had discovered something else. Right on the heels of Stacy’s mount came the saddle-ponies and the pack-horses. The latter, being hobbled, were hopping like kangaroos, making long leaps, covering a great deal of ground in each leap and turning their heads to glance back with almost every jump.
“What can be the matter?” wondered Grace, anxiously watching the descent of the fat boy. Every second she expected to see him come a cropper and fall the remaining distance down the mountainside, but Chunky did nothing of the sort. He stuck tightly to his saddle, now and then casting apprehensive glances back at the horses that were tearing along in his wake.
Lieutenant Wingate, suddenly surmising what the trouble was about, ran for his rifle.
“Wha—at is it?” stammered Emma Dean.
“They are stampeding. Something is chasing them. I think I know what it is,” answered Hippy, darting across the canyon, clearing rocks and other obstructions in a series of lively leaps, the others of his party standing gaping, wondering, some of them a little fearful, especially for the safety of the panic-stricken Chunky.
CHAPTER XII
AMID THE GIANT SEQUOIAS
Stacy swept past, flinging back some unintelligible words, the ponies still tearing along after him. The Overland Riders shouted with laughter at the funny antics of the hobbled pack-horses. Kitty had forgotten to groan, and Idler was imbued with a new spirit of activity.
For the moment the outfit had forgotten all about Lieutenant Wingate. When finally they thought to look for him he was nowhere in sight.
“Hippy! Oh, Hippy!” hailed Tom Gray.