Both men were off their mounts in a hurry. They left their magazine guns in the saddle scabbards, and their holster pistols as well. If the Indians or any ne’er-do-well whites found the horses after the fire, they would make quite a haul.
Jack’s horse plunged away, snorting to be free, and was quickly out of sight; but Chief seemed uncertain whether to leave his master or not. The scouts did not delay an instant, but started off at a sharp run through the forest, with their packs on their backs. They could dodge under the low branches and burst through the brush-clumps, or avoid them altogether, with much more facility than before.
Chief ran whinnying after them. Suddenly out of the yellow haze above the tree tops a blazing ball of leaves or such light flotsam, floated down. It fell between the white horse and the two men, and Chief snorted and leaped aside. Fortunately the firebrand went out without igniting any of the leaves or twigs which rustled so dryly under foot, but the flame evidently spoiled Chief’s desire to keep with the men. He kicked up his heels and dashed away in the same direction as his mate.
Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack noted this brand, but they said nothing, only increasing their speed. There was vast danger from these flying balls of fire. The wind continued to rise, and soon the conflagration would be leaping ahead rods at a time! It would ignite in dozens of places at once.
As they ran together, Texas Jack glanced into his comrade’s serious face, and a grin overspread his own.
“Say, Buffler,” he said, “I didn’t sleep none too warm last night. Reckon we’ll be more comfortable to-night, eh?”
Cody had to smile at that.
“You reckless devil, you! You’d joke in sight of the fires of Tophet.”
At the moment a great burst of flame roared up into the sky from the summit of a little hill behind them, and both men glanced back. The banner of fire streamed clear across the sky.
“Gee, Bill! Tophet couldn’t look hotter than that,” declared Texas Jack.