And now the question was had those who were coming seen the fire?
A loud yell, unmistakably pure Comanche, came to their ears. This startled the whites for three reasons, the first of which was that they had no thought of being pursued by a large body of their sworn enemies. Secondly, their foes were nearer than they had taken them to be, and, thirdly, they had seen the fire before it was put out. In fact, it had been a beacon for them for nearly half an hour.
“Onto yer hosses, boys. We’ve got to race for it ag’in, an’ the devil take the hindmost.” The four sprung to their horses and quickly placed the saddles upon them. While they were adjusting the girths the bright moon, full and clear, peeped up above the eastern horizon, and lighted up the plain and the river.
Then our four friends saw where the Comanches were and what their number was. They were just on the edge of the river, and were about to dash into the water as the moon showed her smiling face.
There were five score of horses, but only half that number of Indians. Each man had a spare horse, which he led by the lariat.
This sight made the guide feel very anxious, for should their horses get tired they had no others to change to, while the Indians could mount their spare horses, and they being nearly fresh would gain rapidly upon the whites. As the four leaped upon their horses the Indians dashed into the water and came rapidly across.
Our friends rode off at as rapid a rate as they could through the forest. Three minutes afterward the band of Comanches emerged from the water and rode after them.
When the Indians reached the plain the four whites were in full view, and giving a war-cry they started in pursuit.
At the head of the warriors rode Red Buffalo, the chief.
He and the warriors who had escaped with him had met a large band after they had set the prairie on fire.