Ned did not know that time could be so long.  He had not been watching more than three or four hours, and yet it seemed like as many days.  But it was not long until dawn, and then it would be time for them to be up and away again.  The horses reposed by the yucca, and, down the far side of the swell, close to the bottom of the dip, was another yucca.  Ned’s glance wandered toward the second yucca, and suddenly his heart thumped.

There was a shadow within the shadow of the yucca.  Then he believed that it must be imagination, but nevertheless he rose to his feet and cocked his rifle.  The shadow blended with the shadow of the yucca just behind its stern, but Ned, watching closely, saw in the next instant the two shadows detach and separate.  The one that moved was that of a Lipan warrior, naked save for the breech-cloth and horrible with war paint.  Ned instantly raised his rifle and fired.  The Lipan uttered a cry and fell, then sprang to his feet, and ran away down the dip.  In answer to the shot came the fierce note of the war whoop.

“Up, Obed, up!” cried Ned.  “The Lipans are coming down upon us.  I just shot at one of them in the bush!”

But Obed was up already, running toward the alarmed horses, his blankets under one arm and his rifle under the other.  Ned followed, and, in an instant, they were on their horses with their arms and stores.  From the next swell behind them came a patter of shots, and, for the second time, the war cry.  But the two were now galloping northward at full speed.

“Good work, Ned, my lad,” cried Obed.  “I didn’t have time to see what you shot, but I heard the yell and I knew it must have been a Lipan.”

“He was stalking us, a scout, I suppose, and I just got a glimpse of him behind a yucca.  I hit him.”

“Good eyes and good hand.  You saved us.  They must have struck our trail in some manner during the night and then they thought they had us.  Ah, they still think they have us!”

The last remark was drawn by a shout and another spatter of shots.  Two or three bullets struck alarmingly close, and they increased the speed of their horses, while the Lipans urged their ponies to their best.

“They’re too eager,” said Obed.  “It’s time to give them a hint that their company is not wanted.”

He wheeled and executed with success that most difficult of feats, a running shot.  A Lipan fell from his horse, and the others drew back a little for fear of Ned, the second marksman.

“They’ve taken the hint,” said Obed grimly, as he accomplished a second difficult feat, that of reloading his rifle while they were at full gallop.  The Lipans did not utter another war cry, but settled down into a steady pursuit.

“I think I’ll try a shot, Obed,” said Ned.

“All right,” said Obed, “but be sure that you hit something.  Never waste a good bullet on empty air.”

Ned fired.  He missed the Lipan at whom he aimed, but he killed the pony the warrior was riding.  The Indian leaped on the pony that had been ridden by the warrior slain by Obed and continued in the group of pursuers.  Ned looked somewhat chagrined, and Obed noticed it.