"Would they do that?" asked the young operator.
"Oh, they might—there's not much counting on what an Indian will do, especially at these ceremonies. But I'll fix it all right. Just leave it to me."
Though the top of the mesa was flat, it was only comparatively so. There were little hollows and ridges, and when the riders were down in some of the depressions they could not see very far ahead.
They kept on, becoming more and more impressed with the wonderful view. It was a new experience for the Easterners, and they appreciated it.
"I guess it's going to turn out a false alarm," Russ observed, as he shifted the weight of his camera.
"No, they're here," returned Baldy, in a low voice.
"How can you tell?" Alice asked.
"I can hear the stamping of their ponies. They're tethered just beyond there—past that clump of trees." He pointed as he spoke, and, at the same moment, from that direction came the whinny of a pony. It was answered by Baldy's horse.
"I thought so," said the cowboy, quietly. "They're here."
"Good enough!" declared Russ. "Mr. Pertell will be pleased to get this film."