CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
A SAVAGE SATURNAL.
Only for a short while had Wilder's trick held the pursuers in check.
Habituated to such wiles, the Indians, at first suspecting it to be one, soon became certain.

For, as they scattered to each side of the cleft, the steel tube no longer kept turning towards them, while the coonskin cap remained equally without motion.
At length, becoming convinced, and urged on by the Red Cross chief and the bearded savage by his side, they dashed boldly up, and, dismounting, entered the chine over the body of the butchered horse.
Only staying to take possession of the relinquished rifle, they continued on up the ravine fast as their feet could carry them.

A moment's pause where the red kerchief lay on the rock, suspecting this also a ruse to mislead them as to the track taken by the fugitives.

To make certain, they separated into two parties--one going up the gulch, that led left, the other proceeding by that which conducted to the place where the two men had concealed themselves.
Arriving upon the little platform, the pursuers at once discovered the cavity, at the same time conjecturing that the pursued had gone into it.
Becoming sure of this, they who took the left-hand path rejoined them, these bringing the report that they had ascended to the summit of the cliff, and seen nothing of the two men who were chased.
Then the stones were cast in; after them the burning stalks of the _ideodondo_; when, finally, to make destruction sure, the rock was rolled over, closing up the shaft as securely as if the cliff itself had fallen face downward upon the spot.
The savages stayed no longer there.

All were too eager to return to the waggons to make sure of their share in the captured spoils.
One alone remained--he with the bushed beard.