The man from the Rito became suspicious.  Again he looked, but the spot or object, whatever it might be, had gone out of sight altogether.  He crawled over to the man nearest him, told him what had occurred, and returned to his post.  The dark speck or thing had not reappeared; but on the right side of the gallery formed by the trees it seemed as if, somewhat nearer to his own position, something black became apparent and disappeared in an instant.  The scout strained both ear and eye.  Nothing could be heard, and nothing else of a suspicious character met his gaze.

Meanwhile his companion had crept over to where Tyope was lying, and had reported to the commander the strange apparition.  Tyope turned over so as to face the east and said,—­

“It is well.”

He also began to scan the network of shadows and illuminated patches extending in that direction.  The Indian who had spoken to him went back to his post, but very soon returned, whispering,—­

“Somebody has crossed over from one tree to another.”

“Where?” Tyope asked in a subdued voice.

“There,” replied the scout, pointing with his hand toward a group of bushes.

“It is well,” said the leader; “go back and keep your eyes open.”

The Indian crawled off.  Tyope rose to his knees, seized two branches of the tree behind which he had been reclining, and bent them asunder.  In this manner he was able to overlook the ground to the east at a greater height than before.  The light had increased, but it would have been impossible to discern any object at a distance.

Daylight was growing on the waning night.  Had Tyope stood up and looked toward the east, he would have seen the dark, sinuous line which the mountains east of Santa Fe trace along that part of the horizon.  Their uppermost snow-fields were beginning to glisten in the light streaming up from beyond.

On Tyope’s left a rustling sound was heard; he turned around.  One of his men was cautiously approaching.

“There are Moshome in front of us.”

“I know it,” replied the commander.  “How many have you seen?”

“Two.”

“And you saw them clearly?”

“Yes, but they sneaked off.”

“Did they seem to come toward us?”

“They crept behind a juniper, and after that I could see nothing more.”

“Do the others know it?”

“Not yet.  Shall I tell them?”

“Go tell them.  Afterward return here to me.”

Tyope felt embarrassed.  It was clear to him that several Tehuas were lurking in the direction whence he had come, and that they were moving toward him.  It indicated that their numbers were strong enough to engage him.  That looked very, very ominous!  If he only knew how matters stood elsewhere, and whether the enemy had shown himself at other points!  Tyope grew very uneasy.

Tactics in Indian warfare reduce themselves to a game of hide-and-seek.  He who must show himself first is sure of suffering the greater loss.  Tyope knew that in case the Tehuas had actually surrounded him they had the greater advantage at their disposal.  They might wait much longer than he and his men.  They might even wait for days, keeping the Queres penned up in uncertainty, and then break out as soon as the latter were sufficiently exhausted.