Barry and the young hunter were soon joined, after the former had given the signal and it had been answered, by two figures on horseback, which they were not long in making out as the old hunter and the little French naturalist, Monsieur Tierney.
The hunter shook the young man’s hand and also that of the circus-rider. The latter then told how it was he had got the prisoner away, and both of the others laughed heartily.
The guide said he would like to see Red Buffalo when the chief found out the escape of the prisoner.
The guide cherished a deep hatred for the chief of the Comanches, and should the two ever come face to face in a fight, one or the other was bound to go under if nothing occurred to separate them. Twice before this had the guide been a captive in the hands of Red Buffalo, and both times had he escaped. Once he had run the gantlet, and pretty well bruised and cut, was about to be burned at the stake, when old Captain Wilton and his company of regulars rescued him. Ralph was an army scout at that time.
The second time he had escaped by his own exertions.
The four whites rode for nearly two hours and then they were suddenly stopped by the old guide.
He saw a suspicious object coming toward them from the north-east. The guide made all of them dismount, and then told them that the objects they had taken to be buffaloes were Indians.
The latter were about forty in number, and to the astonishment and chagrin of the four whites, they camped close by them and began to cook an early breakfast.
The whites muffled the heads of their horses in their blankets so that the animals might not betray them by a whinny or a neigh. The whites and their steeds crouched in the grass for several hours. It was just at daybreak that the Apaches, for such the guide declared the Indians to be, departed, much to the relief of the whites.
No sooner were they well out of sight than the four resumed their journey. The sun soon arose and lit up the earth with his bright, warm and cheerful rays.