“Your horse stumbled. I have had to use my knife on him, his leg was broken. But how do you feel?”
“Oh, I am a little dizzy and very tired. But go, Running Dog, you must ride to the village for help.”
“Yes, White Cloud, I must do that, but I am lost. I do not know where we are and the sky is black tonight. We must stay here until dawn. My pony is all done in anyway. He would not get very far tonight. We will rest. I will stand guard first.”
With that, Running Dog moved off to a small crevice of rock and settled down to keep watch. But the grind had been too much even for him, and before too long his head hung low upon his chest and both boys slept.
Suddenly Running Dog woke with a start, hands of steel were holding his arms and legs, pinning him where he sat. He struggled and then he heard a familiar voice, “Why do you struggle so hard, my son?”
“Father, it is you. Oh father, I am so glad to see you. But tell me, how did you find us?”
“Well,” said Running Dog’s father, “we too have eyes and saw the Kiowa signals while off gathering some horses that had strayed. We rode to meet the invader, for we knew that they would have come far into Apache territory to catch those that they pursued. So we rode to attack the band. We were able to defeat them and send them running for their homes, but before that we were able to learn from one of their dying braves that you, their quarry, had ridden in this direction.
“I am sorry we were holding you when you awoke but you are mighty fast with the knife and I did not want to take the chance of being killed by my own son.”
They laughed and then the party returned without further incident to the safety of their village.
* * * * * * * *