"Kin savvy señor," replied the boy, "that all To hausen, he say, that all; 'look out, Satank comin'!' Pretty _pronto_, I 'speck. Now I mus' vamose. Satank he see me here, he kill me." And quickly turning he sneaked down the ravine till he reached the brush and disappeared. To say that I was alarmed at the sudden shock to my recent feeling of confidence is to put it mildly; but I realized that there was no time to waste in idle regrets at the unfortunate turn of affairs. I felt almost helpless and could not decide what to do to prepare for the danger. Rushing into the dugout I seized my carbine and, going again up onto the dirt roof, I fired several shots in the hope that possibly the sound might reach my companions, who were still in sight, slowly climbing the hill about two miles away. It was no use--the wind was blowing from them to me, and they moved steadily on, evidently not hearing me. I was hesitating whether to jump on Prince, ride after them and hurry them back to prepare for a probable call from the hostiles when a surly growl and bark from Found drew my attention another way, and I was almost frightened out of my wits to see two mounted Indians coming, one behind the other in single file, along the trail leading from the ford below the beaver dam. They were on the opposite side of the ravine--the stable side--so I moved down onto the platform between the dugouts, where I would have a better position, still hoping that they would turn out to be some of To hausen's people; but a thrill of something akin to horror ran through me on looking closely at the foremost Indian when he had reached the top of the bank a few feet from me, for I recognized the sinister countenance of Satank. To let him know that I recognized him and understood his probable feelings toward me, I swung my carbine into a threatening position and called out, "Halt!" at the same time making the sign to him to stop where he was. He halted at the command, as did the other Indian in the rear, and, while keeping a close watch on both to see that they drew no gun on me, I demanded in a defiant tone: "Halloo, Satank, what do you want here?" Satank made no reply, but motioned his companion to his side. I recognized the man as a half-breed, called Mexican Joe, who had sometimes been used as an interpreter at Fort Wise. Joe was evidently to act as interpreter now. In my defiant attitude and speech I was assuming much more self-confidence than I really felt; but I wished to impress them that I distrusted them, understood their intentions, and was prepared to stand them off or fight. However, neither of the savages made any threatening movement--the time was not ripe for declaring war--they had evidently come on a reconnoitring expedition. As soon as the interpreter had moved up to him Satank spoke a few words to Mexican Joe, who asked in broken English: "Where your pardners? Other mans? Where wagon?" "Gone down to To hausen's camp," I said.