“It was a close call for me,” said he, in response to some question that Mose addressed to him. “I got a bullet through my shoulder and a rap over the head with a hatchet. You want to watch out, you two do. The reds are most too thick about here to make travelling pleasant. We saw the trail of a small party only yesterday morning.” This information and warning took away every atom of the boy’s courage, and when he and his companion had ridden beyond earshot of the people in the wagon, he said suddenly: “Don’t let’s go any farther, Mose.” The herdsman ceased the merry whistling which he kept up all the time when he was not talking, and looked at Gus in great surprise. “Let’s go back to Palos,” continued the latter. “We’ll be safe there, and I am afraid to go any farther.” Mose laughed long and heartily. “Why, I’d rather be out here among the Indians than in the settlements,” said he. “I wouldn’t live in Palos for anything. There isn’t elbow-room enough there for me. I want to be where I can stretch my arms when I feel like it without hitting something. You needn’t worry,” he added, glancing at the boy’s pale face. “You’ll be just as safe in Mr. Ackerman’s rancho as you would be in Palos.” “But perhaps the Indians will catch us before we get there.” “No they won’t. We’ve just as much right to keep out of their way as they have to hunt us up. But they never waste any time in hunting up settlers. All they care for is the stock; and they gobble it up and get out of the country with it as quickly as they can. Of course, if a fellow gets in their way he stands a chance of being popped over.” “Do you all go in the house when the raiders come?” “Bless you, no. Some of us herdsmen are fifty or a hundred miles away, and we couldn’t get back there if we tried. Besides, it would be poor management to bring our different herds all together so that the raiders could swoop down and stampede them. You see we know about what time to expect these raids. They are generally made about the time of the full moon, and if a herder is alert and watchful he will have his stock out of the way.” “What will he do with it?” “He will drive it farther back in the country than the Greasers care to come. Perhaps we had better turn off the trail a little way. It runs through an open country here, and if there are any reds about, we want to keep out of their sight.” Again Gus wondered how in the world Mose could talk about these things in this careless, indifferent way. He seemed to care no more for Indians and Mexicans than his pony did for the grass he trampled under his feet. While Gus was trembling all over with excitement and apprehension Mose was as cool as a cucumber, and whistled and talked as cheerfully as he had done ever since leaving Palos. He slept just as soundly at night, too, relying on his pony, which was always picketed near the camp, to give him notice of the approach of danger.