t is," cautioned
Thure, as he quickly fell in by the side of Bud, his own rifle held
ready for instant use. "It might be Indian devilment of some kind. You
know dad's last letter from the mines said that the Indians were getting
ugly; and if it is hostile Indians, we want to see them first."

"You bet we do," was Bud's emphatic rejoinder, as he again pulled up his
horse. "Now, just hold Gray Cloud and I'll scout on ahead and see what's
going on down there in the valley before we show ourselves," and,
sliding swiftly from Gray Cloud's back, he tossed his bridle rein to
Thure, and, rifle in hand, started swiftly and as silently as an Indian
toward a thick clump of bushes that grew directly on the top of the
little hill.

Thure deftly caught the bridle rein; and then sat silent and motionless
on the back of his horse, his eyes on his comrade, waiting in tense
expectancy for the moment when he would reach the clump of bushes and
look down into the valley beyond and see the cause of those strange and
terrible cries that had so suddenly and so fearfully startled them.

Bud, carrying his cocked rifle at trail, his form bent so that the least
possible part of his body showed above the grass of the hillside, ran
swiftly until he had almost reached the brow of the hill and the clump
of bushes. Then, crouching closer to the ground, he crept cautiously and
slowly to the bushes and, gently working himself into their midst,
carefully parted the branches in front of his face until he had a clear
view of the little valley below. At the first sight he uttered an
exclamation of surprise and wrath and threw his rifle to his shoulder;
but, with a regretful shake of his head, he almost instantly lowered the
gun, and, turning quickly about, motioned excitedly for Thure to advance
with the horses and started on the run to meet him.

"Indians! Is it Indians?" Thure cried anxiously, the moment Bud was at
his side.

"No," panted the boy, as he leaped into his saddle. "It's _El Feroz_;
and if I've got anything to say about it, he has made his last kill.
Come on," and his eyes glinted with wrath and excitement, as he dug his
spurs into the flanks of Gray Cloud and galloped furiously up the hill.

"_El Feroz!_ Bully!" and Thure, with an exultant yell, struck the spurs
into his horse and galloped along by his side.

At the top of the hill both boys pulled up their horses and looked down
into the valley. The valley was small, not more than hal