“Yes, we sure did have a strenuous time,” remarked Blake, as they rode along at an easy pace. “And how those Indians threw down their guns, and gave in, when the troopers charged against them!”
“That’s right,” agreed Joe. “And those bugle notes, when they started to gallop, telling us that help was on the way, was the sweetest music I ever heard.”
“Same here,” came from Hank. “But say, if it’s all the same to you boys, I think we might as well camp here and have grub. This looks like good water and there’s enough grazing for the critters to-night. Then we can push on early in the morning, and in a couple of days more we ought to make Big B ranch.”
“It seems to take us longer coming back than it did going,” remarked Blake, as he slid from his pony, and pulled the reins over the animal’s head as a signal for it not to wander. “I thought we’d sure come in sight of the ranch to-day.”
“Oh, it’s farther than that,” said Hank, as he looked about for wood with which to make a fire. “I guess you were so anxious to get on the trail of the Indians on your way out that you didn’t notice how much ground you covered. And it was quite a few miles, believe me!”
“I do!” said Joe, with half a groan. “I’m sore and stiff from so much saddle riding. I’m not used to it.”
“Oh, you’ll limber up soon,” said Hank, cheerfully. “Now, if you boys will get the water, and break out the grub, I’ll get supper. It’ll soon be dark.”
The lads busied themselves, and soon a cheerful little blaze was going, while the tired horses and burros, relieved of the burden of saddles and packs, were rolling luxuriously around at the length of their tether ropes.
“I wonder if all the Moquis and Navajos who skipped off their reservations have been driven back?” asked Joe, as they were about ready to eat.
“What makes you ask that?” inquired Blake quickly, and with a curious look at his chum.