Instantly Reuben and Jack obeyed the command which had been given them, and putting their horses into their best paces started in pursuit of the fleeing pair. It was not long, however, before they discovered that the Indian pony, in spite of the load he was carrying and the weight that was attached to his tail—for the Indian girl still was clinging tenaciously to her hold—was much swifter than those of his pursuers. The marvel of it all was the fearless manner in which the young squaw still clung to the tail of the running animal. There were moments when she was dragged over the sands, and then again she would regain her footing and, running swiftly and leaping wildly, continue her flight. But whatever befell her, whether she was dragged or drawn, her grasp was not relaxed. The horses which Reuben and Jack were riding were old and slow. The main thought in the minds of the men when they departed from the mission did not concern any possible pursuit. They all had confidently believed that as soon as they approached the Indian village the culprits whom they were seeking would be delivered into their hands. Their plans, however, had undergone a change, owing to the attack which they had been compelled to make. And now the wild flight of the two Indians convinced the pursuers that the brave was a man of importance in the tribe and that there were special reasons why he was eager to escape. Doggedly the white men held to the pursuit, but as they fled across the level plains toward the defiles of the mountains not more than ten miles away, they were soon aware that there was slight probability of their overtaking the fugitives. “My horse is winded!” called Jack sharply. “Let’s turn back!” “We can’t turn back,” replied Reuben. “We can, and I shall,” retorted Jack. “You’ll have to go alone,” said Reuben. “Kit Carson told us to follow this redskin until we got him. We have been following him, but we haven’t got him yet.” “Well, I can’t follow any farther,” said Jack, and as Reuben glanced at the horse of his companion he was convinced that the man had spoken truly. The sides of the poor beast were heaving convulsively and its suffering was clearly apparent. “You stop here!” called Reuben. “I’ll go ahead alone. I have a rifle and the redskin hasn’t any, so I’m not afraid.” In response to his suggestion Jack drew rein on his horse, and when Reuben glanced behind he saw that the poor animal was barely able to stand. The necessity of urging his own horse forward, however, soon caused him to ignore the plight of his companion and he continued his well-nigh hopeless pursuit.