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"Men," he said, "we are undoubtedly threatenedwith an attack. The Comanches are numerous, brave, and cunning. I will not conceal from you those facts.A fight with them will mean loss to us, and, even if wewin that fight, as I am sure we will, they will attackagain. Now, if any want to turn back, let them do so.All who wish to go back, say 'I'."
He paused. There was a dead silence throughout thetrain. The corners of Woodfall's lips curved a little intoa slow smile.
"Those who wish to go on, Comanche or no Comanche, say 'Yes,'" he cried.
A single "Yes" was thundered out from scores ofthroats, and many of the more enthusiastic raised theirrifles and shook them.
"I thought so," said Woodfall quietly, and then headded in a louder voice: "Forward!"
Fifty whips cracked like so many rifle shots. Thewagons creaked and moved forward again, and by theirside rode the armed horsemen. They descended the slope, rose to the crest of the next swell, where the Comanchehorseman had stood, and then passed on, over wave afterwave into the unbroken gray-green expanse of the West.There was nothing before them but the plains, with abunch of buffalo grazing far off to the right, and a herdof antelope grazing far off to the left. The ominous spellthat the Indian had cast seemed to have vanished withhim so far as the great majority of the men wereconcerned. But Phil and his immediate comrades did notforget.
"The words of that Indian, as you have deliveredthem to me, linger in my mind, young Sir Philip of thePlains," said Bill Breakstone, "but I am glad he tookthe trouble to give us a warning. A stitch in time maysave the lives of nine good men.
"By all means," said Middleton, "and I can tellyou, Breakstone, that I already wish we were safely onthe other side of that river."
They camped that night in the open plain. Therewas a good moonlight, but the watch was doubled, themost experienced frontiersmen being posted as sentinels.Yet the watchers saw nothing. They continuously madewide circles about the camp, but the footprint of neitherman nor horse was to be seen. The day dawned, coldand gray with lowering skies, and, before the obscure sunwas an hour above the plain, the train resumed itsmarch, Woodfall, Middleton, Breakstone, Phil, andArenberg riding in a little group at the head.
"How far on do you say is this river?" asked Woodfall.
"We should strike it about noon," replied Breakstone, repeating his statement of the day before. "It is narrowand deep, and everywhere that I have seen it the banksare high, but we ought to find somewhere a slope for acrossing."
"Is it wooded?" asked Middleton.
"Yes, there are cottonwoods, scrub oaks, bushes, andtall grass along either bank."
"I'm sorry for that," said Woodfall.
Phil knew perfectly well what they meant, but he kept, silent, although his heart began to throb. The otherthree also fell silent, and under the gray, lowering skythe spirits of the train seemed to sink. The men ceasedto joke with one another, and no songs were sung. Philheard only the tread of the horses and the creak of thewagons.
An hour or two later they saw a dim black linecutting across the plain.
"The trees along the banks of the river," said BillBreakstone.
"And they are still two or three miles away," saidWoodfall.
The leader rode among his men and spoke with them.The train moved forward at the same speed, drawingitself like a great serpent over the plain, but there was aclosing up of the ranks. The wagons moved more closelytogether, and every driver had a rifle under his feet.The horsemen rode toward the head of the train, heldtheir rifles across the pommels of their saddles, andloosened the pistols in their holsters. Phil was conscious ofa deep, suppressed
excitement, an intensity of expectation, attached to the dark line of trees that now rosesteadily higher and higher out of the plain.
An old buffalo hunter in the train now recalled theriver, also, and, after studying the lay of the landcarefully, said that they would find a ford about two milesnorth of the point toward which the head of the trainwas directed. The course was changed at once, and theyadvanced toward the northwest.
"Do you think anything is going to happen, Bill?"asked Phil, speaking for the first time.
"Do you feel kind of tingly in your blood?" askedBreakstone, not replying directly.
"I tingle all over," said Phil frankly.
"I'm tingling a bit myself," said Breakstone, "andI've spent a good many years in the wilderness. Yes,Phil, I think something is going to happen, and I thinkyou and me and the Cap and Arenberg ought to sticktogether."
"That is well spoken," said Middleton. "We arechosen comrades, and we must stand by one another.See how the trees are drawing nearer."
The black line now stood up level with the earth, andthe trees became detached from one another. They couldalso see the thick undergrowth hiding the river, whichseemed to flow in a deep gash across the plain. Middletontook from his saddlebags a pair of strong glasses, and, as they rode on, examined the double line of treeswith the minutest scrutiny. Then he lowered the glasses, shaking his head.