no harm to see. If he had not taken that precaution
undoubtedly all three of the party would have been dead inside of half
an hour.

For the first sweeping glance of the Ranger showed him a tragedy. The
valley was filled with Indians. Apparently as yet they did not know that
any white men were in the neighborhood, for the smoke was beginning to
rise from morning fires. In a little pocket, just off from the camp,
their ponies were herded. At the opposite side were a dozen ox-wagons
grouped together in a circle to form a corral. The tongue of the nearest
wagon was propped up by a yoke, and across it was the naked body of a
man who had been crucified and tortured. The other drivers of the
freight outfit were nowhere in sight. Either they were lying dead behind
the wagons, or they had escaped on horseback.

The Ranger drew back at once from the bluff. He knew that probably he
had been seen by the Indian lookouts; if he and his party were going to
get away, it must be done quickly. He ran down the hill to his
companions.

"Indians--Kiowas--hundreds of them," he explained. "They've captured a
freight outfit and killed the drivers. We'll cross the river below their
camp if we can." As he spoke, he was busy unlocking the handcuffs of the
prisoner. To Dinsmore he gave a revolver.

It seemed to Ridley that his heart was pumping water. Death with torture
was the punishment given captives by the plains Indians. He knew he must
be ghastly white, but he said nothing.

The three men rode out of the ravine to the river. Already they could
hear the yelling of the Kiowas a few hundred yards above. A moment later
they caught sight of the savages pouring down the bank. Those in front
were on foot. Others farther back, on the round-bellied Indian ponies,
were galloping to catch up.

Half a mile farther down, there was a break in the river-bank which
offered a better chance for crossing. The stream there broadened, cut in
two by a little island. The three riders gained on their pursuers.
Bullets whistled past them, but they did not stop to exchange shots.
When they reached the place Jack had chosen to cross, they were four or
five hundred yards ahead of the leading Indians.

They splashed into the water. Here it was shallow, but along the edge of
the island the current was running swift. The Kiowas, following the
fugitives down the bank, kept up a scattering fire. The bullets struck
the water on all sides of the three moving targets.