They could see, though, even if they were not seen, and they were soon able to count a dozen Indian warriors leading three pack-ponies as far up the ravine as four-footed beasts could go.
"Wonder if they've wiped out the two fellers," said Bill.
"Looks like it. Or they may have captured 'em. Lost their game, if they haven't lost their scalps. Wonder what tribe of red-skins they are, anyhow."
There was a better reason than that why No Tongue and Yellow Head did not come back with their friends, but it was just as well that Captain Skinner and his miners did not understand it.
"Captain," whispered one of the men, "shall we let drive at 'em? We could pick off half of 'em first fire."
"Not a shot. All we want jest now is to be let alone. I don't mind killing a few red-skins."
"Mebbe they killed the two fellers."
"Likely as not. I'm kind o' glad they did. That there ledge is ours now. Let 'em carry off their game, and then we'll climb back. I reckon I know now how we'd best work our way down to the level those Indians came from."
The Lipans made short work of loading their ponies, and the moment they were out of sight, the miners began their climb out of that cañon. There was no good reason why they should follow the Lipans.