now, so far as the herd was concerned. Their horses could easily take
them out of its reach.

"Maybe they'll stop at the creek," said Ned. "I should think that the
water would hold anything in this thirsty land."

Obed shook his head, but offered no further answer. The thunder of the
hoofs now filled their ears, and, as the sound advanced steadily, it was
evident that the creek had not stopped the buffalo herd.

The dawn suddenly came up sharp and clear after the manner of southern
lands. The heavens turned blue, and a rosy light suffused the prairie.
Then Ned saw the front of the buffalo herd extending two or three miles
to right and to left. And he saw more. He saw the cause of the terror
that had smitten the herd.

Brown men, almost naked and on horseback, darted in and out among the
buffaloes, shooting and stabbing. They were muscular men, fierce of
countenance, and their long black hair streamed out behind them. Some
carried rifles and muskets, and others carried lances and bows and
arrows.

"Lipans," said Obed, "one of the fiercest of all the southwestern
tribes. They belong mostly across the Rio Grande, but I suppose they've
come for the buffalo. Ned, we're not wanted here."

After the single look they were away toward the north, moving at a
smooth and easy gallop. They were truly thankful now that the horses
they rode were so large and powerful, evidently of American breed. It
was not difficult to increase the distance between them and the herd,
and they hoped to slip away before they were seen by any of the Lipans.
But a sudden shout behind them, a long, piercing whoop showed that they
had reckoned wrong.

The two looked back. A group of warriors had gathered in advance of the
band, and it was obvious, as they galloped on, that they had seen the
two fugitives. Two or three shook their long lances, and pointed them
straight at Ned and Obed. Then uttering that long, menacing whoop again,
the group, about twenty in number, rode straight for the two, while the
rest continued their work with the herd.

"It's a chase," said Obed. "Those fellows want scalps and they don't
care whether we're Texans or Mexicans. Besides, they may have better
horses than the Mexican ponies. But it's a long chase that has no
turning, and if our horses don't stumble we'll beat them. Look out for
potholes and such places."

They rode knee to knee, not yet putting the horses to their full speed,
but covering the ground, neverthele