The Indians, indeed, were going out under the cover of the horses, and as each brave passed the open gate he seized his chosen pony, tied an end of his lariat about its muzzle, and mounting, bare-backed, rode off.
At length Isa Blagg succeeded in reaching the gate and closing it. He flung the heavy bars across and secured them in their staples. Only a score or so of the ponies remained in the corral. Over a hundred had been driven off in the confused stampede.
When Isa returned to his companion there was not a live Redskin to be seen. Even the wounded had been carried away.
"Seems as how we've gotten the worst of it, this time," Isa Blagg regretted. "I'll allow that Broken Feather laid his plans real well. You made a mistake, Gideon, in plantin' us all together beside the gate, as if that was the only possible point of attack. Say, we oughter been distributed in pickets, same as Buckskin Jack allus recommended."
"We ain't none of us wounded," reflected Gideon, wiping a streak of blood from his face. "Leastways, not wounded serious. An' that sniper hidden in the bush yonder must ha' picked off quite a dozen of the Injuns. I'm hopin' he'll show up, now, an' let us know who he is."
"Meantime," interposed Abe Harum, "what's goin' ter happen 'bout our ponies? You can't afford ter lose that Arab mare, Gid. A valuable beast, anyhow, let alone her being a present from Kiddie."
"I'm figurin' out just how I'm to get her back," nodded Gideon. "I shall have her back, though I have to organize a special raid into their reservation' and enlist the help of the military from Fort Laramie. Rube," he called, "just slip down to the trail. Thar's a squad of the boys from Red Buttes just arrived. Tell 'em to come right here. Tell 'em as I'm plannin' to foller up them Redskins and round up my ponies before they're corralled."
There were seventeen frontiersmen in the squad, all of them disappointed in being too late to help in defending Birkenshaw's ponies, but all of them eager to join in the pursuit of Broken Feather and his braves.
Gideon yielded the leadership to Nick Undrell, a man of blemished reputation, a drunkard, a desperate gambler, and a convicted thief, but a magnificent horseman, a capable scout, and the hero of many an Indian fight.
Nick knew where the Indian village was situated, and which way Broken Feather was most likely to take.