"Apache. After the squaws. Don't you hear his whoop? I suppose they'll shoot him first thing, but they won't send a bullet at the girls. They're a bad crowd. Worse than Apache Indians."
"I don't consider them white men."
"Not inside, they ain't. I'd rather be a Lipan."
The two merry, laughing girls rode by in happy ignorance of the danger that was lurking in the thicket, and Red Wolf galloped swiftly on to join them. Then the three miners, with Bill at their head, sprang out of their cover.
"Look out, boys. Don't use your rifles. Thar must be plenty more within hearin'."
"We'll have to kill the brave."
"Of course. Git close to him, though. No noise. I'd like not to give him a chance to so much as whoop."
They never dreamed of looking behind.
"They've start enough now," growled Murray. "Come on, Steve. Step like a cat. We must take them unawares. Have your tie-up ready."
The buckskin thongs which hang from the belt, or shoulder, or knee of an Indian warrior are not all put there for ornament. They are for use in tying things, and they are terribly strong.