As the neigh was once more repeated, Buffalo Billy resaddled his horse, hitched him so that he could be easily unfastened, and, with his rifle started cautiously on foot up the stream.
He had not gone far when in a little glen he beheld nearly half a hundred horses grazing and lariated out.
This was a surprise to him, and he was most cautious indeed, for he was convinced that they belonged to some prowling band of Indians.
Presently, up the mountain further, he caught sight of a sudden light, and his keen eye detected that a man's form had momentarily appeared and then all was darkness once more.
On he went in the direction of the light, going as noiselessly as a panther creeping upon its prey, until presently he dimly discovered the outline of a small cabin, built back against the precipitous side of an overhanging hill.
Hearing voices, and recognizing that they were white men, he stepped boldly forward and knocked at the door.
Instantly there followed a dead silence within, and again he knocked.
"Who is there?" asked a gruff voice.
"A pard."
"Come in, pard."