The lad bade him good-by, and he took his departure; but instead of descending the mountain toward the point that had interested him, he followed the opposite course, as if he intended to push through to the other side of the Wind River range. This was so transparent a subterfuge that it did not deceive Jack. "He has discovered something," was his conclusion; "he doesn't choose to tell me, and it makes little difference. I wonder whether he believes I intend to idle my time till night and then go back to headquarters and wait for him? If he thinks so, he makes a mistake." Waiting until sure his friend was beyond sight, Jack carefully picked his way to the rock from which Hank had made the observation that decided his line of action. The better to screen himself the youth lay down on his face, as when peering over the ridge into the valley where the antelope were grazing, and held the glass to his eyes. Thus looking out, he saw the plateau in the distance, seemingly but a few rods in extent. Only one of the ponies was visible, and he resembled a small dog, standing with head down, in the middle of the grassy plot. Beyond and between were foot-hills, peaks of varying heights, gorges, ravines and hollows, with rocks, boulders and stunted trees scattered in profusion. The picturesqueness of the scene was deepened by a thin, blue column of vapor in the distance, ascending from an invisible camp-fire. The smoke rose steadily, so it was not to be supposed that it was meant for a signal, like those already described. The most attractive point was the break in the canyon, already described. This was in plain sight, with the expanse of swiftly-flowing water, which soon disappeared between the walls on the opposite side. Suddenly Jack started. Two Indians were visible, though they were in view for only a few minutes. They came from the base of the incline where the boys had seen three of them the day before, and passed out of sight before the interested observer could decide whether Motoza, the Sioux, was one of them. "I believe Hank has gone down there," was the conclusion of Jack, "and I shall do the same." CHAPTER XVII. INTO AND OUT OF THE CANYON. Jack Dudley's enforced idleness had become intolerable. He could stay no longer in the place from which Hank Hazletine had departed a half-hour before. It was a waste of time to speculate over the intentions of the veteran, and the youth made no attempt to do so. He had set out to see whether he could act even an insignificant part in the recovery of his loved comrade. It has been said that the boy had the advantage over the man in that it was not to be supposed any importance would be attached to his actions. At the same time he was liable to "put his foot in it" in more ways than one.