"Mebbe there isn't any."
"You don't know. Safe not to make too much noise, anyhow."
They might have fired every cartridge they had and not been heard by the Apaches in the valley; but there was no one to tell them so. At the same time they felt perfectly safe to talk, for they were sure there were no human ears near enough to hear them—so sure that they talked aloud and recklessly.
Perhaps it would have been as well for them to have imitated Captain Skinner, who hardly ever talked at all.
As it was, they had nothing to do but to wait, for their intended captives were evidently in no sort of hurry, and were laughing merrily as they loitered along the ravine below, picking berries here and a flower there, and making a capital frolic of their morning ride.
Laughing, talking, thoughtless of all danger, and yet they were riding on into the most terrible kind of a "trap."
How could any help reach them, if once they should go beyond those treacherous rocks and bushes?
CHAPTER XI
In such a country as that, full of sudden changes from mountain and table-land to valleys and plains, pretty large bodies of men might have been quite near each other without knowing it. Unless, indeed, they should send out sharp-eyed scouts to find out about their neighbors, as did the miners under Captain Skinner, and the Lipans of To-la-go-to-de.