"They got them in there as sure as the world," muttered Elam. "It's all right so far, and I can go on without running the risk of seeing any of them. I just know I shall see something after I get up there."

Elam put his horse into a lope and followed along after the trail as boldly as though he had a right to be there. He didn't feel any fear, for he knew that he was on the trail of the Indians instead of having them upon his, and he knew they would not be likely to come back without the prospect of some gain. Presently he came to the place where some of the savages had dismounted and gone into the willows to fight their victims on foot, and then something told him that if he got in there he would find the bodies of the men who had robbed him of his furs. How that little piece of woods must have rung to the savages' war-whoops!

But all was silent now. He led his horse a short distance into the bushes and dismounted, following the trail of an Indian who had crept up on all fours toward the place where the doomed men were concealed, and presently came into a valley in which the undergrowth had been trampled in every direction. Near the middle of the valley were two men who were stretched out on the ground, dead. There was nothing on them to indicate who they were, but Elam had no difficulty in recognizing them.

"Well, it is better so," said he sorrowfully. "The Indians have got you, and that's all there is of it. Now my furs have gone, and I shall have to go to Uncle Ezra's to get a grub-stake."

There were no signs of mutilation about them, as there would have been if the men had fallen into the hands of the Indians when alive. The Cheyennes had evidently been in a hurry, for all they had done was to see that the men were dead, after which they had stripped them of their clothes, stolen their guns and ammunition and furs, and gone off to hunt new booty. In this case it promised to be Elam, who made a desperate fight of it. The young hunter resolved that he would go into camp, and he did, too, hitching his horse near the stream that ran through the valley, just out of sight of the massacred men. He saw no ghosts, but slept as placidly as if the field on which the savages had vented their spite was a hundred miles away.

When he awoke, it was dark, and the peaceful moon was shining down upon him through the tree-tops. He watered his horse, ate what was left of the lunch, and began to work his way out of the valley, when he discovered that both his nag and himself were sore from the effects of their long run. He had gone a long distance out of his way to see what the Cheyennes had done, and he didn't feel like bracing up to face the eighty miles before him. His horse didn't feel like it either, for when he stopped and allowed him to have his own way, he hung his head down and went to sleep. The horse seemed to be rendered uneasy by the bandage he wore round his neck, and when it was taken off he was more at his ease.

It took Elam two days to make the journey to the camp where he had left Tom Mason, for he did all of his travelling during the daytime, and stopped over at some convenient place for the night. He was getting hungry, but his horse was growing stronger everyday. He dared not shoot at any of the numerous specimens of the jack-rabbit which constantly dodged across his path, for fear that he would betray himself to some marauding band of Indians, and not until he got within sight of Tom Mason standing in the edge of the willows did he feel comparatively safe. Tom gazed in astonishment while he told his story, and it was a long time before he could get dinner enough to satisfy him.

"Thank goodness they have left you all right," said Elam, settling back on his blanket with a hunk of corn bread and bacon in his uninjured hand and a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. "Do you know that I have worried about you more than I have about myself?"

"Well, how did those Indians look when they were following you?" asked Tom, who had not yet recovered himself. His hand trembled when he poured out the coffee so that one would think that he was the one who had had a narrow escape from the savages. "Did they yell?"

"Yell? Of course it came faintly to my ears because they were so far away, but if I had been close to them, I tell you I wouldn't have had any courage left," said Elam, with a laugh. "I've got my saddle and bridle, and that's something I did not expect to get."

"Was there no one in the sheep-herder's ranch to look for you?"

"If there had been, I wouldn't 'a' been here. There was nobody there at all. I just went in and got my saddle, and that's all there was to it.

You see, I was on their trail, and they had passed over that ground once and thought they had got everybody."

"Well, I am beaten. I never heard a whisper of an Indian since you went away. It is lucky for me that they didn't know I was here. How did those men look that were killed?"

"They were dead, of course. There was no mutilation about them, only just enough to show who killed them. If the Indians had got hold of them before they were dead, then you might have expected something. They would have just thrown themselves to show how much agony they could put them to. I never want to fall into the hands of the Indians alive. Do you know that the soldiers always carry a derringer in their pockets?

Yes, they do, and that last shot is intended for themselves."

"By George!" said Tom, drawing a long breath. "Let us get out of here."

"Where will we go?"

"Let's go back to the States. I never was made to live out here."

"Hi yah! I couldn't make a living there."

"But you talk well enough to make a living anywhere. You won't find one man in ten out here who talks as plainly as you do."

"That's all owing to my way of bring up. Ever since I was a little kid I have been under the care of Uncle Ezra, who talks about as plain as most men do."

"Well, let's go and see him."

"We'll go just as soon as this blizzard is over. It is coming now, and in a few minutes you will see my horse coming in here."

"Is that the blizzard? Why, I thought it was snow."

"You go to sleep and see if you don't find snow on the ground in the morning. There is one thing that you can bless your lucky stars for: the Indians are safely housed up. They'll not think of going out plundering while this blizzard lasts."

"They know when it is coming, I suppose?"

Elam replied that they did, and wrapped himself up in his blanket, while Tom went out to throw more wood on the fire and to make an estimate of the weather. The sky was clouded over, not making it so very difficult to travel by night, the wind was in the south, and the rain was quietly descending, as though it threatened a warm spring shower. It beat the world how Elam could tell that this storm was three days off, that before it got through everything would be "holded up," and that the snow would be six inches deep. The horse came in about that time and took up a position on the leeward side of the fire, where he settled himself preparatory to going to sleep. Then Tom thought he had better go, too, but the thrilling story to which he had listened took all the sleep out of him. What a dreadful fate it would be for him to be killed out there in the mountains, as those men were who stole Elam's furs, and no one find his body until long after the thing had been forgotten! He fell asleep while he was thinking about it, and when he awoke it was with a chill, and a feeling that the storm had come sure enough. The wind was in the north, and he could not see anything on account of the snow. He didn't have as many blankets now as he did when he first struck the mountains, for he had left a good portion of them in the gully. All he had was his overcoat, and, wrapping himself up in it, he went to sleep and forgot all about the blizzard.

CHAPTER XV.

UNCLE EZRA PUTS HIS FOOT DOWN.

Tom slept warm and comfortable that night, and perhaps the simple presence of Elam had something to do with it. A boy who could go through a twenty-mile race with Cheyennes, and have no more to say about it than he did, would be a good fellow to have at his back in case trouble arose. A person would not think he had been through such an encounter, and had seen the bodies of two murdered men besides, for, when he awoke, Elam was sitting up on his blanket and looking at his horse. He lay in such a position that the threatening streak on the animal's neck, which had come so near ending the race then and there and resulting in Elam's capture, could be plainly seen.

"Halloa!" exclaimed Elam. "The Indians didn't get you last night, after all. I tell you, if our soldiers could strike them now, they would have an easy job of it. Now, there's that horse of mine. He has got a worse hurt than I have, but he makes no fuss over it. I am anxious to find Uncle Ezra, for he has some medicine that will cure it."

"But you can't go where he is--where is he, anyway?" said Tom.

"He is just about two days' journey over the mountains. I know where he is, and I ought to have been there before. But, laws! he's quit looking for me. If I don't show up at all, he won't worry."

"This storm is just fearful, isn't it?" said Tom, pulling his coat up around his ears. "What do you suppose the soldiers are doing that were sent out by the commander of that fort? Why, they will freeze to death."

"Do you think we are getting the full benefit of it here?" said Elam, with a look of astonishment. "You just go out to the edge of the evergreens and look around a bit. You see, we haven't got much snow here, for your lean-to keeps it off; but go out where it has a fair chance at you. By the way, where is my map?"

Tom replied that it was in the hollow tree, and speedily fished it out for him; and while Elam fastened his eyes upon it, Tom went out to the edge of the woods to see what the storm looked like on the plains. He had been there scarcely a moment when he was glad to turn around and go back. Their little grove of evergreens was just the spot for homeless wanderers like themselves. The wind was cutting, and blew so hard that Tom could not face it for an instant, and he dared not let go his hold upon the branches at his side for fear that he would get lost. When he got back to the fire, he was glad to heap more wood upon it, and get as close to it as possible.

"I don't see how anybody can live out there," said Tom, with a shudder.

"I should think it would be their death."

"They don't live," said Elam. "They just camp somewhere and stay until it blows over. I have been out in a storm that was worse than this, and came through all right. You can just imagine what it must be out there on the prairie."

All that day the boys remained idle in their lean-to, not daring to go out after traps, and before they went to bed that night Elam decided that, early the next morning, they would make an effort to reach Uncle Ezra's. Their food was getting scarce, and they had no way to replenish their stock. A part of the day was spent in hiding the things which they could not take with them, for fear that somebody would come along and steal them, and the rest of the time was devoted to Elam's stories. It was a wonder to Tom how the boy had managed to get through so many things and live. He didn't relate his adventures as though there was anything great in them, but told them as a mere matter of fact. Anybody could pass through such scenes if he only had the courage, but there was the point. For the first time in his life Tom wished himself back in Mississippi. Anyone might get into scrapes there, as Our Fellows got into with Pete, the half-breed, or with Luke Redman of the Swamp Dragoons, but there was always a prospect of their coming out alive.

On the morning of the next day a start was made as early as it was light enough to see, Elam leading the horse and Tom following close behind him. The most of their way led through the gully, and to Tom's delight there was hardly any snow on the way; nor was there any game, although they kept a bright lookout for it. They camped for two nights in the foot-hills, Elam working his way in and out of the gullies, never once stopping and never once getting into a pocket. On the last morning they ate every bit of the corn bread and bacon.

"They aint far off now," said Elam. "About noon we'll be among friends.

You will find two boys there just about your size who will give you more insight into this life than I ever could. You see they know what you want to talk about."

After proceeding about a mile of their journey Elam stopped, placed his hand to his mouth, and gave a perfect imitation of a coyote's yell. If Tom had not seen him do it he would have thought there was a wolf close upon them. A little further on he gave another, and this time there was an answer, faint and far off, but still there was something about it that did not sound just like a coyote.

"They're there," said Elam. "I would know that yell among a thousand.

It's Carlos Burton."

"Who is he? You never mentioned him before."

"Well, he is a sharp one. He came out here long after I did, and had sense enough to go to herding cattle, while here I am and haven't got anything except the clothes I stand in. It's all on account of that nugget, too. If the robbers had stolen it and got well away with it I might have been in the same fix. Well, it's all in a lifetime."

"I should think you would give it up," said Tom. "You go working after it day after day--why, you must have been after it fourteen years."

"Shall I give it up when I've got the map of it right here?" said Elam, tapping his ditty-bag, which was hung across his chest under his shirt.

"I am nearer to it now than I have been before, and you had better talk to those who have made fun of me all these years. 'Oh, Elam's a crank; let him alone, and when he gets tired looking for the nugget he'll come to his senses and go to herding cattle.' That's what the folks around here have had to say about me ever since I can remember; but I'll get the start of all of them, you see if I don't."