," Travis promptly replied, giving Nolan the
old title accorded the leader of a war party. Travis was grateful for
that much of a concession.

They swung into action, heading southeast at an angle which should bring
them across the track of the enemy hunting party. The path was theirs at
last, only moments after the passing of their quarry. None of the five
riders was taking any precautions to cover his trail. Each moved with
the confidence of one not having to fear any attack.

From cover the Apaches looked aloft. They could hear the faint hum of
the helicopter. It was still circling, Tsoay reported from a higher
check point, but those circles remained close over the plains area--the
riders had already passed beyond the limits of that aerial sentry.

Three to a side, the Apaches advanced with the trail between them. They
were carefully hidden when they caught up with the hunters. The four
Tatars were grouped together; the fifth man, heavily burdened by his
pack, had climbed from the saddle and was sitting on the ground, his
hands busy with a flat plate which covered him from upper chest to belt.

Now that he had a chance to see them closely, Travis noted the lack of
expression on the broad Tatar faces. The four men were blank of eye,
astride their mounts with no apparent awareness of their present
surroundings. Then as one, their heads swung around to the helmeted
leader before they dismounted and stood motionless for a long moment in
a way which reminded Travis of the coyotes' attitude when they
endeavored to pass some message to him. But these men even lacked the
signs of thinking intelligence the animals had.

The helmeted man's hand moved across his chest plate, and instantly his
followers came into a measure of life. One put his hand to his forehead
with an odd, half-dazed gesture. Another half crouched, his lips
wrinkling back in a snarl. And the leader, watching him, laughed. Then
he snapped an order, his hand poised over his control plate.

One of the four took the horse reins, made the mounts fast to near-by
bushes. Then as one they began to walk forward, the Red bringing up the
rear several paces behind the nearest Tatar. They were going upslope to
the crest of a small ridge.

The Tatar who first reached the crest put his hands to cup his mouth,
sent a ringing cry southward, and the faint "hu-hu-hu" echoed on and on
through the hills.

Either Menlik had reached the camp in time, or his people were not