With that the two boys steered their ponies from the main trail and began to travel in a southeasterly direction. Here there was no clear trail, and they had only the uncanny sense of a homing pigeon to guide them. They pushed their ponies easily for the first couple of hours, but finally the steady pace began to tell and they had to come to a stop. They had entered a green valley and as they rode they noticed an abundance of game. “Too bad that we are in a race,” remarked White Cloud, “for here is a paradise of game.” Running Dog said nothing, and the two boys brought their ponies to a stop. They stepped from their ponies and rested, allowing the horses to crop grass. As they lay there, White Cloud glanced back in the direction from which they had come. Again he could see the ominous puffs of smoke rising from behind the small hills that separated them from the main band of Kiowas. After resting a short while and allowing their ponies to blow, they mounted again and continued their gallop toward their village and security. Night was approaching now and the boys were glad for they knew that they could travel much more swiftly at night because it would be cooler. Besides, they knew that the Kiowas would not attack unless they were sure they could kill both the boys. They rode more swiftly now, and suddenly Running Dog’s pony whinnied aloud and swerved to one side. Running Dog tried to pull him back but the pony galloped off in a slightly different direction from the one in which they had been traveling. Then Running Dog understood why, for suddenly he heard the hoofs of his horse splashing. The horse had found water. What a break! The boys threw themselves from their horses and lay flat in the water. Suddenly Running Dog lifted himself from the water and grasping White Cloud’s arm he said: “We are foolish. Suppose they are watching this water hole. We sit here like two fat frogs waiting for the hook. Come quickly, we must leave this place.” The two boys mounted once again and rode on. Suddenly the pack horse stumbled and fell. The boys stopped their ponies and returned to the side of the pack horse. “He will be all right,” said White Cloud, “he is just winded.” “We must leave him,” said Running Dog. “We cannot wait for him to regain his breath and his strength. We must ride.” Now the two boys could travel a little faster without the pack horse to slow them down, although they hated the thought of leaving a pony for the blood-thirsty Kiowas. Finally they brought their ponies to a halt and dismounted. “We must rest several hours or our ponies will die underneath us. Try to sleep, White Cloud. I will stand guard. I will wake you in a short time and then I will sleep. Do not worry, I am tired, but my eyes and ears are sharp.”