“How many people do you make out?” and Hamlin’s voice shook a little.  “There’s four, ain’t there?”

At that distance the fugitives looked like mere black dots.  It could scarcely be determined that they moved, and yet their outlines were distinct against the background of white snow, while the two watchers possessed the trained vision of the plains.  Hughes answered after a deliberate inspection, without so much as turning his head.

“Thar’s four; leastwise thar was four hosses, and two—­the Injuns likely—­are ridin’ double.  Thar animals are ’bout played, it looks ter me—­just able ter crawl.  Ain’t had no fodder is ‘bout the size o’ it.  We ought to be able ter head thet bunch off ’fore they git to the Canadian at thet rate o’ travel—­hey, Sergeant?”

Hamlin’s eyes followed the long sweep of the cross-ridge, studying its trend, and the direction of the intervening valleys.  Once down on the other slope all this extensive view would be hidden; they would have to ride blindly, guessing at the particular swale along which those others were advancing.  To come to the summit again would surely expose them to those keen Indian eyes.  They would be searching the trail ahead ceaselessly, noting every object along the crests of the ridges.  However, if the passage around was not blocked with snow, they ought to attain the junction in ample time.  With twice as far to travel, their ponies were strong and fit, and should win out against Le Fevre’s starved beasts.  He waved his gloved hand.

“We ’ll try it,” he said shortly; “come on, Hughes.”

He led off along the steep side of the hill, and forcing his horse into a sharp trot, headed straight out into the white wilderness; Hughes, without uttering a word, brought down his quirt on his pony’s flank and followed.

CHAPTER XXX

THE FIGHT IN THE SNOW

The slope toward the south had not been swept clear by the wind, and the horses broke through the crust to their knees, occasionally stumbling into hollows where the drifts were deep.  This made progress slow, although Hamlin pressed forward recklessly, fully aware of what it would mean should the fugitives emerge first, and thus achieve a clear passage to the river.  What was going on there to the right, behind the fringe of low hills, could not be conjectured, but to the left the riders could see clearly for a great distance over the desolate, snow-draped land, down to the dark waters of the Canadian and the shore beyond.  It was all a deserted waste, barren of movement, and no smoke bore evidence of any Indian encampment near by.  A mile or more to the west the river took a sharp bend, disappearing behind the bluffs, and on the open plain, barely visible against the unsullied mantle of snow, were dark specks, apparently moving, but in erratic fashion.  The distance intervening was too great for either man to distinguish exactly what these might be, yet as they plunged onward their keen eyes searched the valley vigilantly through the cold clear air.