Then galloping to the front he
collected his men and swept down the valley at full speed. In a few
minutes they were near enough to observe that the enemy only numbered
four Indians, who were driving a band of about a hundred horses before
them, and so busy were they in keeping the troop together that Cameron
and his men were close upon them before they were observed.
It was too late to escape. Joe Blunt and Henri had already swept round
and cut off their retreat. In this extremity the Indians slipped from
the backs of their steeds and darted into the bushes, where they were
safe from pursuit, at least on horseback, while the trappers got
behind the horses and drove them towards the camp.
At this moment one of the horses sprang ahead of the others and made
for the mountain, with its mane and tail flying wildly in the breeze.
"Marrow-bones and buttons!" shouted one of the men, "there goes Dick
Varley's horse."
"So it am!" cried Henri, and dashed off in pursuit, followed by Joe
and two others.
"Why, these are our own horses," said Cameron in surprise, as they
drove them into a corner of the hills from which they could not
escape.
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