“This is a Sarcee camp, I fancy. They are a cunning lot and not the most reliable of the Indians. Let me see—three—four teepees. Ought to be fifteen or twenty in that camp. Only squaws about. The braves apparently are in town painting things up a bit.”
A quarter of a mile past the Indian encampment the trail made a sharp turn into what appeared to be the beginning of the main street of the town.
“By Jove!” cried Cameron. “Here they come. Sit tight, Mandy.” He pointed with his whip down the trail to what seemed to be a rolling cloud of dust, vocal with wild whoops and animated with plunging figures of men and ponies.
“Steady, there, boys! Get on!” cried Cameron to his plunging, jibing bronchos, who were evidently unwilling to face that rolling cloud of dust with its mass of shrieking men and galloping ponies thundering down upon them. Swift and fierce upon their flanks fell the hissing lash. “Stand up to them, you beggars!” he shouted to his bronchos, which seemed intent upon turning tail and joining the approaching cavalcade. “Hie, there! Hello! Look out!” he yelled, standing up in his wagon, waving his whip and holding his bronchos steadily on the trail. The next moment the dust cloud enveloped them and the thundering cavalcade, parting, surged by on either side. Cameron was wild with rage.
“Infernal cheeky brutes!” he cried. “For two shillings I'd go back and break some of their necks. Ride me down, would they?” he continued, grinding his teeth in fury.
He pulled up his bronchos with half a mind to turn them about and pursue the flying Indians. His experience and training with the Mounted Police made it difficult for him to accept with equal mind what he called the infernal cheek of a bunch of Indians. At the entreaties of his wife, however, he hesitated in carrying his purpose into effect.
“Let them go,” said Mandy. “They didn't hurt us, after all.”
“Didn't? No thanks to them. They might have killed you. Well, I shall see about this later.” He gave his excited bronchos their head and sailed into town, drawing up in magnificent style at the Royal Hotel.
An attendant in cowboy garb came lounging up.
“Hello, Billy!” cried Cameron. “Still blooming?”