“Quick, boys—saddle up!” cried Campbell, excitedly. “Never mind the meat. I’m afraid that Fred is running into some real trouble—that creature has bewitched him. See! he forgot his rifle—but he has his pistols. Make haste! we mustn’t lose sight of them if we can help it, though the moon is full and will soon be up. We can follow their trail, if needs be.” There was little hesitation. Though the day’s work had been hard, both men and beasts were ready for a race, and this was no common one. Already the young hunters possessed a burning curiosity to know who and what this strange woman rider really was, and what was the motive of her strange actions. Hopples were slipped, saddles and bridles quickly adjusted, and then, weapons in hand, the little party dashed swiftly beneath the natural rock, out upon the broad prairie. But where were the two riders—their friend and the strange woman? For a moment a superstitious thrill agitated the young hunters, but then Campbell laughed. He saw their foolishness. “They’re beyond the swell—we’ll see them in a moment. Come on—keep up with me if you can!” That he spoke the truth, the next moment confirmed. Gliding like shadowy phantoms, rapidly yet noiselessly, two riders appeared near the crest of the second swell, already a mile away. Only that the moon was just rising the eastern swells, the chase would have been invisible to the hunters. But few more words were spoken on the part of the little band. One and all, they saw that a long and severe race was before them, and that all their attention must be given to their horses, already jaded by their hard day’s hunt, if they hoped to keep within view of the young ranger. Up hill and down, over gullies and through the patches of tall grass and weeds, sped the hunters, now no longer in a compact clump, but strung out with intervals of a yard, a horse’s length, maybe, between each other. A dozen lengths in front thundered Ned Campbell on his big bay horse. “Do the best ye can, boys,” he shouted back, with beard on shoulder. “If you can’t keep up, follow the trail.” Each of his friends felt the same vague fear that agitated Campbell’s heart. They believed that Hawksley was being led into some great peril by this strange rider—that she was acting the part of a _decoy_. But why? That was beyond them. They did not pause to reason—they jumped at once to the conclusion, preposterous as it seemed.