It proved the very luckiest sort of a move for them.
The Steam Horse had taken this very course.
Just below it had run into a patch of chaparral, which was surrounded with a dense growth of grass and trailing vines.
For fifty yards the Horse had cleaved its way through this growth.
Then it had come to a stop.
The clinging vines had clogged the axles and a swaying branch had caught the throttle rein and shut off power, bringing the monster to a dead stop.
Barney saw the lights of the Horse first and a yell escaped his lips.
“Whurroo! we’ve found him at lasht,” he roared. “Cum on, naygur. Run fer yer loife.”
The savages were coming in hot pursuit.
The way the two jokers fled down that slope was a caution to race horses.