The hoof-beats sounded nearer; they swept on and on toward them. Then three horses emerged from the trees out into the light, and neared the spot where the two men were concealed.
"Is it he?" whispered Winkle, hissing the words out between his clenched teeth, and with a sharp click the hammer of his rifle went back.
But Blaze, quickly reaching back, seized his arm.
"Hold hard, there's more ner he thar."
The horsemen raced by like a tornado. It was a party of Blackfeet! And across the saddle-bow of the savage nearest to Blaze, was flung, or held, the form of a woman! In a moment Winkle's eye had caught sight of that which Blaze had perceived—the woman. For a moment he seemed to lose all control of himself, all power for action. Just one glimpse of a white, wild face, and a hand clutching fiercely.
"Did you see it—did you see it?" he asked.
"Yes! I seen it! They've just went an' gone an' done it. Thar's grit in the red-skins, thar are. But you'll be able to see another corpse along Back Load Trail afore many hours. Dick Martin will be behind 'em in the shake of a buck's tail—Hello! What's bu'sted?"
The man by his side had sunk, stiff and motionless, upon the grass.
"Blast my tail-feather, ef the young cuss hain't fainted. Thar must be somethin' wrong in the upper story, sure!"