The man disappeared quickly; but Buffalo Bill was in hot chase, determined not to lose sight of him.
He was wondering, at the same time, if the Indians had shot at this man. Apparently, the fellow had thought so; for it seemed that he had leaped up and ran from the Indians, rather than from the scout, whom, apparently, he had not yet seen.
Off at one side Indian yells broke out; but they were not war-trail yells; they were hunting yells, announcing victory.
“The Utes fired at game, and brought it down,” was the scout’s conclusion. “I am sure now they did not shoot at Juniper Joe.”
Then he came again in sight of the man, who had gained a slippery slope, which he was trying to climb, though, at some points, to do it he would have needed the ability of a fly.
Buffalo Bill could see that Juniper Joe was a badly frightened individual. It seemed to the scout he was frightened by the Indian yelling, following the shot; that, in short, Juniper Joe was sure the Indians had fired at him and were now pursuing him.
Climbing over slippery rocks, Juniper Joe gained the treacherous edge of a cañon, along which he ran at reckless speed.
The scout called to him.
The effect was bad. Juniper Joe tried to stop and look about; as he did so, stumbling, so that he was thrown heavily. The next instant he was bounding off the edge of the precipice, and went shooting down.
The scout stopped with a gasp of surprise.