Dusty Star was fully alive to the danger. But he knew that a still greater danger was coming on behind. He pressed himself against the rock at his back, in order to make the most of the few steps possible for a run, drew a deep breath, and then took a flying leap over the chasm. He heard the dull roar of the water, he saw the yawning blackness below, and then found himself clinging for dear life to the roots of a stone pine on the opposite bank.
He pulled himself into safety, and looked back, expecting to see Kiopo follow him at once; but Kiopo did not move.
"Kiopo!" he called. "Kiopo!"
The wolf never turned his head. Dusty Star looked nervously back along the gorge. A few moments afterwards the figure of an Indian came quickly around the turn. Rigid as the rock against which he crouched, Kiopo never stirred. Dusty Star watched with breathless excitement. He knew that the wolf's stillness meant deadly danger to the unconscious Indian. The latter came quickly on. In the intense silence the soft padding of his deer-skin moccasins was plainly audible.
From where Dusty Star crouched, he was invisible to the Indian. So also was Kiopo hidden by the rock. The boy saw at a glance that the man was not of his own people, but belonged to the dreaded Yellow Dogs. Now the Indian had almost reached the rocks. Dusty Star saw Kiopo's powerful haunches quiver, and held his breath.
The next instant he saw the wolf's great body hurl itself through the air.
Quick as lightning, the Indian leaped aside. Kiopo's terrible fangs missed his throat by a finger's breadth. In a flash, the Indian's tomahawk was out. Kiopo did not wait, and cleared the chasm with a bound.
And now Dusty Star could see that several more Indians were coming down the ledge. When they reached the spot where Kiopo had launched his attack they stopped and examined the opposite bank carefully. Like Dusty Star, Kiopo had drawn himself out of sight, among the thick mass of brambles, and creepers.
The Indian who had been attacked could be seen pointing out to his companions the exact point at which the wolf had disappeared. Dusty Star watched them with a terrible fear growing moment by moment. If their pursuers succeeded in making the crossing, he and Kiopo were only two against five. At present, they were in a sort of rude cave formed by the roots of the pine and screened by the hanging foliage; but in order to continue their flight, it would be necessary to come out full in view of their enemies and risk exposure to their deadly arrows.
They had not long to wait in suspense. They saw one of the Indians prepare to take the leap.