Luckily, the greater part of the plain had been crossed before this reunion took place, and the party had not gone far when the rancher allowed the animals to drop to a walk. In front loomed a dark mass, which he recognized as the fringe of the wood observed from the bank of the stream behind them. Through this it was necessary to thread their way with extreme care, owing to the darkness and their unfamiliarity with the ground. Upon reaching the edge of the wood the fugitives came to a stand-still. Slipping from his saddle, the rancher brushed away the snow at his feet and pressed his ear against the ground. "I can hear nothing of them," he remarked, resuming the upright posture; "I am quite hopeful that that party will molest us no more." "It won't do to count on it," were the wise words of his wife. "I think you had better dismount and lead your pony," said the rancher; "we can mount again when through the wood; there will be less danger from the trees and limbs, and you and Dot must be cramped from sitting so long." He helped them to the ground. It was a relief indeed to both, for they had kept their places on the back of the horse for a number of hours. Dot yawned, stretched her limbs, and felt as though nothing would delight her so much as a frolic in the snow. The thoughtful mother had provided her not only with thick, strong shoes, but with heavy stockings, leggings, and warm clothing, with which she was well protected against the storm that was impending when they left their home. Nothing could have better shown the childish innocence of her nature than her action in slyly removing her mittens, stooping down, packing a wad of snow with her hands and flinging it against her father's face, with a merry laugh. "Gracious, Dot! how you startled me!" he said, looking around at her. "Did I hurt you?" "No; but don't speak or laugh so loud, for some of the bad Indians may be near." "I forgot about that, but I'm going to hit Jerry, for he is so lazy he needs it." And the indolent animal received a tiny whack from the snowy missile projected by the chubby hand of the child. He seemed to think, however, that it was no more than a snowflake, for he did not give even an extra wink of the eye. The delay was only momentary, when the rancher, with one hand grasping the bridle-rein and the other parting the limbs and bushes in front, began groping his way through the growth of timber, where it was so dark that everyone's eyes were practically useless. Directly behind the horse walked Dot, with her mother next, leading her pony, and the pack-horse bringing up the rear. Ten minutes of this cautious progress and the leader checked himself with an impatient expression. "What is it?" called the wife, in a guarded voice. "Another stream of water." "Do you know anything about it?" "Nothing; I came near tumbling into it, with Dick on top of me; if he hadn't scented it first I would have done so."