There were not over a score of braves who had ponies near by, and, as they came upon the two boys, the latter had a strange story to tell, of the whole herd raising their heads as one animal, uttering wild snorts, and going off as though possessed of evil spirits.
On down the valley swept the herd, and, as mile after mile was gone over, the slow ponies and used-up ones began to lag behind.
But Corporal Milk and his men led the way, and Buffalo Bill and those with him kept the pace a hot one, forcing the ponies that could run and endure the strain close on the heels of the leaders.
Behind them they knew the warriors were coming with all the speed they could to try and head off the herd.
But a stern chase is a long one always, especially when the leaders have a start of over a mile, and several hours thus passed before at last the shadowy outlines of the pursuers could be seen.
“We must push to the lead now, pards, at all hazards.
“We have to desert our ponies, and, fortunately, we have the timber along the river to hide us,” said Buffalo Bill.
The ponies they rode then were pushed the harder, and they began to pass animal after animal. The center of the herd was reached, then they forged nearer and nearer to the front, the ponies they passed halting as they went by them, and thus checking the more rapid pursuit of the braves in chase.
At last Buffalo Bill saw Corporal Milk’s tall form ahead, and the next moment the scouts were all bunched together.