Though the country was rocky and covered with much scrub, they went along rapidly. There were few trailers who could equal Buffalo Bill. It was hard work, so that often he preferred to let his Indians do it; but he was always equal to the task, as in this instance. There were tracks of two people--one the track of a man surely; the other smaller, which might have been made by a woman; though, if so, she had worn a coarse and heavy shoe, just fitted for that kind of work. At length the trails split; the larger tracks going off to the right, the others to the left. “I’ll follow the man,” said the scout; “you take the other. I fancy the man is Juniper Joe; the other may be his wife.” It had become evident that the couple were getting tired; they had traveled rapidly, as if at first frightened, and so had begun to use up their strength. It was perhaps for that reason they separated; as they might have thought the pursuers, if they knew of them, would follow the larger tracks. By this time Buffalo Bill and his pards were a good five miles north of the mining town of Blossom Range, and in the vicinity of a village of the Ute tribe of Indians. The Utes were supposed to be peaceably inclined. At any rate, they had shown no hostile intentions since Iron Bow had led them on the warpath, five years before, and had been badly worsted. But they were still blanket Indians, much given to powwowing and strange dances, to feathered headdresses and variegated paints. For some time Buffalo Bill had been half convinced that the tracks he and his pards had followed would lead, by and by, to this Ute village. Yet, when the tracks separated, this did not seem so likely. Buffalo Bill, pressing ahead on the trail he had chosen, soon lost sight of Nomad and the baron. He had gone nearly a mile, through a very rough country, when he became aware of the fact that the Indians were near him; he saw a few, and heard others. They had apparently been deer hunting. Their tracks, here and there, covered over those he was pursuing; so that twice he had to stop and spend valuable time in puzzling out the trail. “If this fellow is a friend of the Utes, it’s likely he will join the deer hunters,” thought the scout. A little later a shot rang out. Thereupon, a man sprang out of bushes a hundred yards away, leaping up as if he thought the bullet had been sent at him, and ran with big jumps across the rocks, through the rough ground. At a glance, Buffalo Bill saw that the man was Juniper Joe. “Our guess is right, so far,” he muttered. The man disappeared quickly; but Buffalo Bill was in hot chase, determined not to lose sight of him. He was wondering, at the same time, if the Indians had shot at this man. Apparently, the fellow had thought so; for it seemed that he had leaped up and ran from the Indians, rather than from the scout, whom, apparently, he had not yet seen.