rning with hope and relief in his face to speak to Sergeant Bruce, who
lay there at his elbow, he saw the blue-sleeved arm stretching forth in
warning to lie low, and with grave eyes the veteran was gazing straight
at a little butte that rose from the rolling surface not more than half
a mile away to the southeast.

"Lieutenant," he whispered, "there are Indians back of that hill at this
minute, and it isn't buffalo they're laying for."

Dean was brave. He had been tried and his mettle was assured, and yet he
felt the sudden chill that coursed his veins. "How can they have seen
us," he murmured.

"May have struck our trail out to the southwest," said Bruce slowly, "or
they may have been told of our coming and are stalking us. They've got a
heavy score to settle with this troop, you know."

For a moment only the breathing of the little party could be heard. All
eyes were fixed upon the distant mound. At last Dean spoke again.

"When did you see them first and how many are there?"

"Near ten minutes ago. I saw something fluttering swift along the sky
line just beyond that divide to the south. It skimmed like a bird, all
but the quick bobbing up and down that made me sure there was a
galloping pony under it. Then another skimmed along. It was the bunch of
feathers and red flannel on their lances, and my belief is that they
struck our trail back here somewhere, and that there's only a small
party, and they don't know just who we are and they want to find out."

"You're right. Look!" was Dean's sudden answer, for at the very instant
there rode boldly, calmly into full view two young Indians, who with
cool deliberation came jogging on at gentle speed, straight toward the
concealed bivouac of the troopers. Instantly Bruce reached for his
carbine, and two or three of the men went sliding or crouching backward
down the slope as though in quest of their arms. Full eight hundred
yards away were the riders at the moment, coming side by side in
apparent unconcern.

"Don't," muttered Dean, with hand outstretched. "They look anything but
hostile."

"That's when they're most likely to be full of hell, sir," was the
prompt answer. "See! others are watching behind that knoll," and indeed
as Bruce declared, a feather-decked head or two could be detected
through the glass, peering over the summit.

"Warn them to halt, then," cried Dean. "But we cannot fire unless they
provoke it."

Bruce was on his feet in a second. Standing e