But, alas for the best laid plans of mice and men! Nature has a grim way of playing tricks that upset our best schemes--cruel tricks, sometimes. For, hardly had the Mexican riders gotten well through the gap with yells of delight as they followed the trail into that beautiful desert garden, when, from up on the high mountain flanks behind Big John’s position, came a sudden rolling of stones bounding down the hill. The Mexicans all halted and looked up, shouting to each other eagerly. Big John looked around inquiringly, and Hano gazed with an expression of anguish in his black eyes. Up there ranged a band of mountain sheep! A large band, seventeen in all, if any one had stopped to count them. Rams, ewes and young ones, they were all clattering along the summit of the ridge, outlined clearly against the sky and headed for the fastnesses of the higher slopes. At sight of them eager cries came from all the Mexicans. They began to dismount hurriedly. Rifles were unslung, cartridges hastily torn from the bandoliers. Then a wild race began up that mountain after those doomed sheep. Hano gave a grunt of dismay. That chase could only lead to one thing--the immediate discovery of Red Mesa, the hiding place of his tribe that lay beyond those ridges! CHAPTER IX THE SUN DANCE Sid whirled swiftly, after Hano had gone. The slight swaying of a medicine skin--the pelt of an albino big-horn--told him where the opening to the tunnel was. Lifting it aside, a jagged hole in the lava showed, and from below came up a faint tinge of sulphur smell. Sid thought first of going down into the tunnel and hiding in it somewhere, watching his chance to escape. Then he decided against it. He ought to give Hano all the time he could. That _both_ of them had disappeared would be immediately noticed in the village. He looked around, thinking rapidly about what to do next. A bundle of plumed prayer sticks among the ritual appurtenances of the lodge caught his eye and it gave him the idea he was searching for. Going outside the lodge and closing its door, he secured it with a prayer stick. That sign would signify that the lodge was closed to all but medicine men and would keep out any casual stroller. It was now nearly sunset. Sid sought out Honanta again but he was not at his lodge. Sounds of busy life came from the grass huts. Fresh meat of the ram was being prepared for an evening feast; more of it was being hung on drying poles to cure in the sun. A knot of young braves was playing the hoop game, rolling the hoop swiftly along a path and striving to pierce it with lances as it sped.