"Maybe--" "Horses--and an Injun laying along the back of every one, most likely," Applehead returned grimly.

"An old Navvy trick, that is--don't let 'em fool ye, boys! You jest wait, 'n' I'll tell ye 'when t' shoot, er whether t' shoot at all.

They can't fool ME--now I'm tellin' yuh!" After that they were silent, listening strainedly to the growing sounds of approach.

There was the dull, unmistakable click of a hoof striking against a rock, the softer sound of treading on yielding soil.

Then a blur of dark objects became visible, moving slowly and steadily toward the camp.
"Aw, it's just horses," Happy Jack muttered disgustedly.
Applehead stretched a lean leg in his direction and gave Happy Jack a kick.