Meantime the major and his party stood gazing silently after them. They
saw them winding away down the southward face of the long ridge and
crossing the shallow ravine at its foot. Beyond lay another long, low
spur of treeless prairie.

"The Parson didn't seem over-anxious to go," muttered Mr. Hastings, as
though to himself.

"Small blame to him!" promptly answered the major. "I don't blame any
man in this command for declining any invitation, except to dinner.
Hallo! What's that?"

In Davies's little party the men had been seen passing some object from
one to the other. One or two who had ridden up alongside the young
officer touched their hats and fell back to their place. Suddenly two of
them left the squad and, urging their horses to such speed as they were
capable of, went at heavy plunging lope over the southern end of the
opposite ridge and disappeared from view.

"Antelope, by jimminy! I thought I saw a buck's horns over that crest
yonder a minute ago," said an orderly.

"Antelope be damned!" said Crounse, gritting his teeth. "If those men
knew this country as I do they'd think twice before they rode a hundred
yards away from the column. I wouldn't undertake to ride from here to
that butte yonder,--not for a beefsteak, I wouldn't,--God knows what
else I wouldn't do for that!"

"Why, you can see the whole valley, and there ain't an Indian in
sight," said the orderly trumpeter, disdainfully.

"Yes, and it's just when you can't see one that a valley's most apt to
be full of 'em, kid," began the frontiersman, but the major cut him off.

"Ride after Mr. Davies with my compliments, trumpeter, and tell him to
recall those men, and not to let them straggle, even after game."

The trumpeter touched his ragged hat-brim and turned away to get his
horse, which he presently spurred to a sputtering lope, and went
clattering away on the trail.

"We may as well mount now and push ahead," said the major, after a
moment's reflection. "Keep Davies in sight as much as possible,
Crounse." And so saying he went on and climbed stiffly into saddle, for
he, too, was wet and chilled and sore-spirited; but it was his business
to put the best face on matters in general, and the troopers, seeing the
major mount, got themselves to their horses without further order. None
of the horses, poor brutes, required holding, but stood there with
dejected crest, pasterns deep in the mud, too weak to wander even in
search of grass. Warre