Spur came out of a deep sleep and did not know where he was. A hand came over his mouth and he went to strike at the man who held him.
Close to his ear a voice whispered: “Quiet.”
The hand came away from his mouth and he saw Pagley crouched over him in the moonlight.
“The whole Goddam place is full of coyotes talkin’,” the Delaware said. “They got feathers and paint on.”
Spur reached for his rifle and tried to gather his sleepy wits. He looked at the sky and knew that there was not more than an hour to go to dawn.
“They jump us at first light,’ he whispered.
“You bet. Keep your eyes skinned, I’m goin’ out there for a look around.”
“Don’t be a damned fool.”
Pagley grinned like a hungry wolf. “Like I said, there ain’t one of these prairie Indians born that can out-fox a good Delaware.” He patted Spur on the shoulder and flitted away in the moonlight. Spur rose to one knee and strained his eyes, but he lost him in a few seconds.
He was about to wake Jane, but he thought better of it. Let both the girls sleep unafraid while they could. There would be enough fear for all of them when daylight came.
It was the longest hour that he had ever spent. He crouched, shivering with cold, trying to catch any movement out there in the rocks and long grass. Near dawn, the dun whinnied softly. Spur moved.
First he woke Jane. She was wide awake at once. He put an arm around her shoulder.
“They’re all around us most like,” he whispered. “Take my rifle, I’m going to get the horses in.”
“Take care.”
“Sure.” He handed her the Henry and checked his belt-gun, then went to the dun. The black muzzle came into his hand. He stroked it, whispered something soothing and checked the other horses. They were all there, which was a relief. He brought them in and woke Sarah. The girl was remarkably steady when he told her that most probably there were Indians around them. He took the rifle back from Jane and the two girls got to work to saddle the dun and the Indian pony.
Suddenly, he became aware that he could see a fair distance. He turned and told the girls to get down and he had hardly spoken the words when there was a shot not a couple of hundred yards away, a piercing and blood-curdling scream and the shrill whistle of a horse. The earth shook under the punishment of pounding hoofs. Spur thought he saw a close-packed bunch of horses run across his line of vision, but he couldn’t be sure. Shouts came from all around. He swung the Henry this way and that, but could see nothing to shoot at.
A horse was coming this way. Out of the cold mist of dawn, a horseman charged.
He lifted the Henry and a voice reached him.
“Don’t shoot, you fool.”
The next moment, a horse crashed into camp and a triumphant Delaware slid from its back. The dun smelled Indian and kicked the pony in the ribs. All hell broke loose. Pagley let the Indian pony go and it scampered away.
Pagley was hugely excited.
“Did you hear the old Delaware yell?” he asked. “Reckon that put the fear of the devil into ’em. Now get on them horses and let’s ride. They don’t have a nag to their names.”
The four of them piled aboard.
“Me first,” Pagley ordered. “Then the girls. Spur’s rearguard, poor ole hoss.”
He gave that spine-chilling scream of a challenge again and kicked his pony in the ribs. As the animal jumped forward, a form rose from the grass and went down under the flying hoofs. Jane followed and Sarah came close behind her. Spur raked the dun and pounded after them.
There was no sound but the thunder of their hoofs. Figures seemed to come out of the ground without sound. Spur lifted the gun from leather and fired as a man grabbed for Sarah’s bridle. The dun stumbled into something that screamed.
Then they were clear, running out of the hills onto the plain. They ran for a while until Spur noticed that a feathered haft hung from the rump of Pagley’s bay that carried Sarah. They halted and Pagley plucked it out. “That’s the second he’s had,” the Indian said. They went on to the next ridge and, from its height, they looked back. Nothing moved on the plain between themselves and the hills.
Pagley chuckled. “They’re still chasin’ them horses,” he said. He set his Indian pony down the further side of the ridge and the others trailed after him. The horses hit a loping gait and kept it. Jane rode alongside Spur and reached over to touch his hand. “Will we make it?” she asked. He nodded and smiled. “We’ll make it.” “What’ll we do when we get back to civilization?” He grinned broadly. “Speaking for myself, I’m going to get married.”
“I had the same thing in mind. What next?” “In a year or two the Indians will be out of those hills. The buffalo are nearly all gone now. Land’ll be there for the asking and Pagley and me were thinking about raising horses.”
Her eyes shone. “What happens between now and then?” “I fill my notebook, sketch the things I’ve seen and sell my writing and sketches to raise cash for my new responsibilities.” He slowed her pace with a hand, giving Pagley and Sarah a glance to check that they were not looking. He and the girl leaned from the saddle and kissed. When they released each other, Jane said: “You clever devil - you can ride, shoot, draw and write, and kiss.” Spur laughed.
“Lucky you,” he said and they rode on happily side by side.