It was perfectly dark before they reached their halting-place. The
saddles were again loosened, a little Indian corn, moistened with water,
given to the horses, and another slight meal taken by themselves. The
boys, by Mr. Hardy's orders, though sorely against their own wishes,
then lay down to get a couple of hours' sleep; while Mr. Hardy went back
about a hundred yards along the trail they had made on coming, and then
turned aside and sat down at a distance of a few yards to watch, in case
any Indian should have followed up their trail.

Here he sat for over two hours, and then returned to the boys. Charley
he found fast asleep. The pain of Hubert's wound had kept him awake. Mr.
Hardy poured some water over the bandage, and then, waking Charley, gave
them instructions as to the part they were to play.

Both of them felt rather uncomfortable when they heard that they were to
be separated from their father. They raised no objections, however, and
promised to obey his instructions to the letter. They then mounted their
horses,--Hubert having to be lifted up, for his leg was now very stiff
and sore,--and then began to retrace their steps, keeping a hundred
yards or so to the west of the track by which they had come.

They rode in single file, and they had taken the precaution of fastening
a piece of tape round their horses' nostrils and mouth, to prevent their
snorting should they approach any of their own species. The night was
dark, but the stars shone out clear and bright. At starting, Mr. Hardy
had opened his watch, and had felt by the hands that it was ten o'clock.
After some time he felt again.

It was just half an hour from the time of their starting.

'Now, boys, we are somewhere close to the place of your fight. In
another ten minutes we must separate.'

At the end of that time they again closed up.

'Now, boys, you see that bright star. That is nearly due east of us; go
on as nearly as you can guess for ten minutes, at a walk, as before. You
will then be within a mile of the enemy. Then get off your horses. Mind,
on no account whatever are you to leave their bridles, but stand with
one hand on the saddle, ready to throw yourself into it. Keep two
blue-lights, and give me one. Don't speak a word, but listen as if your
lives depended upon detecting a sound, as indeed they do. You are to
remain there until you see that I have fairly succeeded, and then you
are to dash in behind the cattle and fire off your re