“We ought to, and there must be some good reason why we haven’t. We’ll try and discover the reason.”
The darkness of the gulch rendered difficult the task of looking for the stones Cayuse had been piling at irregular intervals. Nevertheless, the scout scanned every step of the way carefully, but without result.
Meanwhile, as they rode, Dell kept a sharp watch for Indians. She saw none, so it was evident that the taste the Apaches had had of the scout’s resourcefulness had been sufficient to discourage them in their sniping tactics.
As the scout spurred on, his alarm for Little Cayuse increased.
“He’s plenty able to take care of himself,” the scout said to the girl, “but any one, I don’t care how wary and cautious, is apt to be caught napping, or taken at a disadvantage.”
“He’s an Indian, and only a boy. It doesn’t seem to me that the Apaches would be very hard on him even if they did capture him.”
“He’s a Piute, Dell, and the Piutes and Apaches haven’t any use for each other. Then, apart from their tribal hostility, I suppose the Apaches are smarting to play even for what happened at the Three-ply Mine the other day. They lost a couple of warriors during that fight. They know Cayuse is a pard of mine, and that it was owing to myself and my pards that the fight went against them. The fact that Cayuse is a boy wouldn’t cause the Apaches to have any mercy on him.”
The gulch walls widened by degrees as they continued on. This allowed more sunlight to come into the defile and made the surroundings plainer.
“The Apaches must have doubled back on their trail,” Dell suggested, “or else Cayuse never followed them this far.”
“It’s about an even chance whether the Apaches have doubled back, or whether something went wrong with Cayuse farther down the gulch. If we don’t pick up another clue pretty soon, we’ll about face and double back on our own trail.”