"THERE ARE FIFTY HOSTILES."  
To the westward the Black Hills thrust their vast rugged summits against the wintry sky; to the south, a spur of the same mountains put out toward the frontier town of Buffalo Gap; to the north-east wound the Big Cheyenne, on its way to the Missouri, and marking through a part of its course the southern boundary of the Cheyenne Reservation, while creek, stream, and river crossed the rolling plain that intervened, and over all stretched the sunless sky, from which the snow-flakes were eddying and whirling to the frozen earth below.
 
But Brinton Kingsland had no eye for any of these things, upon which he had looked many a time and oft. His thoughts were with those loved ones in the humble cabin, still miles away, toward the towering mountains, while his immediate anxiety was about the hostiles that had appeared in his front and were now circling to the northward as if to meet Wolf Ear, the young Ogalalla, who was galloping in the face of the biting gale and rapidly drawing toward them.
 
Brinton's expectation that they would lose no time in coming together was not precisely fulfilled, for while the horsemen were yet a long way off, they swerved sharply, as though they identified the youth for the first time.
 
"They intend to give me some attention," was his thought, "without waiting for Wolf Ear to join them. They know that I belong to the white race, and that is enough."
 
The youth did not feel any special alarm for himself, for he was confident that Jack was as fleet-footed as any of the animals bestrode by the hostiles, and would leave them behind in a fair race. He noticed that the Ogalalla was mounted on a superior beast, but he did not believe he could outspeed Jack.
 
But it would never do to meet those half-dozen horsemen that had faced toward him, and were approaching at the same swinging gallop. Brinton diverged more to the left, thus leaving the trail, and they also changed their course, as if to head him off.
 
"If it is to be a race, I am throwing away my chances by helping to shorten the distance between us."
 
The fugitive now headed directly away from the horsemen, so that both parties were pursuing the same line. The youth looked back, at the moment that several blue puffs of smoke showed over the backs of the horses. The thudding reports came through the chilly air, and a peculiar whistling sound overhead left no doubt that the hostiles, great as was the separating space, had fired at the fugitive, who turned to take a look at Wolf Ear.
 
That individual discharged his gun the next moment. Brinton heard nothing of the bullet, but smiled grimly—
 
"He has changed his mind soon, but they have got to come closer before they hurt me. He is no great marksman anyway, or he would not have missed me a little while ago."
 
It was singular that it did not occur to young Kingsland that it was possible the Ogalalla had not fired at him at all. Not even when the horsemen checked their pursuit, and reining up their animals awaited the coming of the buck, who was riding like a hurricane, could he bring himself to think of Wolf Ear except as a bitter enemy, who for some subtle purpose of his own had declared a temporary truce.
 
"I suppose they think I shall be along this way again pretty soon, and they can afford to wait till I run into their trap," was the conclusion of Brinton, who headed his pony once more toward his home, and put him to his best paces.
 
"Come, Jack, there's no time to throw away; hard work is before you, and you must struggle as never before."
 
The snowfall which seemed for ever impending did not come. The few scattering flakes still circled and eddied through the air, as if reluctant to touch the earth, but no perceptible increase appeared in their number. The nipping air seemed to have become too cold to permit a snow-storm.
 
Brinton had set out fully prepared for such change of temperature. He wore a thick woollen cap, whose flaps were drawn down to his ears, while they were more than met by the heavy coat collar that was turned up, the garment itself being closely buttoned around his body. His rifle rested across the pommel of his saddle in front, and his gloved hands scarcely ever touched the rein which lay loose on his pony's neck. He was a capital horseman, and, with the understanding between him and his intelligent beast, could have got along without any bit at all.
 
Strapped behind him was a substantial lunch, and his keen appetite would have made it enjoyable, but he did not disturb it. It could wait until he learned the truth about the folk at home, which he was now rapidly drawing near.
 
Over a swell in the prairie, across a small creek, whose icy waters hardly came above Jack's fetlocks, up a second rise, and then Brinton Kingsland uttered an exclamation of amazement and sharply checked his animal.
 
"My gracious! what is the meaning of that?"
 
Over another swell, and only a few hundred yards away, two other horses rode to view, coming directly toward him. Each sustained a heavily muffled figure, and they were moving at a rapid walk.
 
Suspecting their identity, he waited a minute, and then started his horse forward again. A few paces, and despite the arctic temperature, he raised his cap from his head and called out—
 
"Hurrah! thank Heaven, you are alive, and have started for the agency."
 
His father sat on one horse, swathed in heavy clothing, and a blanket which the faithful wife had fastened around his emaciated and weak form, while she, with Edith in front, and both also protected against the severe weather, were on the other animal. He had a rifle across his saddle front, like the son, and they had brought with them nothing but a small amount of food, barely enough to last them until they could reach the agency, provided there was no unexpected delay on the road.
 
The discovery that they were alive and secure for the time, though the shadow of a great peril was over all, so delighted the son that he could not repress the shout of joy, as he rode forward and greeted them, little more than their eyes and noses showing through the thick coverings.
 
"What made you leave before I got back?" was the first inquiry of Brinton, after a few congratulatory words.
 
"We concluded it was high time to do so," replied the father, showing more vigour in his voice than the son expected.
 
"How did you find it out?"
 
"A half-dozen hostiles fired several times at the house, and then, as if they feared they were not strong enough to capture us and burn the cabin, rode off for help."
 
"They are hardly out of sight now; they gave me half a dozen shots, and I had a short chase with them. But you are off the trail."
 
"And so are you," said his father.
 
"Which is a mighty good thing for us both. You had to abandon everything?"
 
"Of course; I have no doubt though," added the father grimly, "that the Indians will look after the live stock for us."
 
"Whom do you suppose I saw?" asked Brinton, turning to his mother and sister.
 
"A big bear?" ventured Edith from the depths of her wrappings.
 
"No; he was an old friend of yours—Wolf Ear, who used to come to our house and have such good times with you."
 
The excited child flung her arms about in the effort to free herself of the encumbering wrappings.
 
"Oh, where is he? Why didn't he come with you? Didn't he want to see me? I am so sorry; isn't he with you?"
 
And she peered around, as if she suspected the young Ogalalla was hiding behind the saddle of her brother.
 
Brinton smiled, and then gravely shook his head. He said, addressing his parents more than the little one—
 
"I was never more astonished than to find that Wolf Ear, despite the training he has had at Carlisle, has joined the hostiles, and is now an enemy of those who were such good friends of his."
 
The youth did not think it wise to tell, in the presence of his sister, the particulars of their first meeting.
 
"You grieve me more than I can express," replied the father; "are you sure you are not mistaken?"
 
"Not when he told me so himself."
 
"But you must have met as friends."
 
"He said he would not harm any one of us, if the fortunes of war should give him the chance; but he declares himself the enemy of all others of our race. He has a twin brother, and he and his father and mother, as Wolf Ear coolly told me, would be pleased to scalp us. I have no more faith in him than in them. We parted as friends, but he has joined that very party which fired on you, and will go back to the house with them."
 
"And finding us gone, what then?"
 
"He will lead them on our trail and be among the foremost to shoot us down, every one of us."
 
"I don't believe it!" called Edith from her wraps, which her mother had put around her again; "I like Wolf Ear and want to see him."
 
Brinton did not think it worth while to discuss the matter with his sister, for a far more important matter pressed upon them.
 
"It won't do to follow the trail," remarked the father, "since they will be on the look-out for us. We will bear to the south, so as to strike the Cheyenne further up stream."
 
"We may not be able to ford it."
 
"We can follow it down till we find a place. It may be frozen over nearer its source. The agency is so far off that we shall have to go into camp before we can get half-way there."
 
"How do you feel, father?" abruptly asked his son, glancing keenly at him. "Are you strong enough to stand this hard ride?"
 
"I am much stronger than you would suppose; you know a crisis like this will rouse any man, even if he is a good deal more unwell than I am."
 
"I am glad to hear you talk that way, but you will be tried hard before we reach Pine Ridge."
 
"Give yourself no uneasiness about me; the only thing we are to think about is how we shall get to the agency without meeting with the hostiles, who seem to be roaming everywhere."
 
While they sat talking, at the base of the swell, on the summit of which the parents had first appeared, all partook of lunch, for it was not likely they would have a more favourable opportunity before the coming of night.
 
It was decided to bear still more to the south, with a view of avoiding the party that was at no great distance. Indeed, less than half an hour had passed since they vanished from the view of the youth, who believed they were waiting in the vicinity of the trail for his return, and would attack the whites the moment they discovered them.
 
The halt lasted little more than a quarter of an hour, when they resumed their journey toward the agency, which they hoped, rather than expected, to reach by the morrow's set of sun. The mother was without any weapon, though she was quite skilful in the use of a rifle. Her husband said that if he found himself compelled to yield to weakness, he would turn over his Winchester to her, believing as he did that she was sure to give a good account of herself.
 
They were plentifully supplied with cartridges, but the reader does not need to be reminded of their almost helpless situation. Kingsland, despite his brave efforts to keep up, was unable to ride his pony at full speed for any length of time, while the wife, burdened with the care of Edith, could not expect to do much better.
 
If the company were attacked by any party of hostiles, however slight in numbers, deplorable consequences were almost certain. Their hope would be in finding some sort of shelter which might be turned to account as a screen or barricade.
 
But their only safety, it may be said, lay in avoiding the Indians altogether, and it was to that task that Brinton, as the strongest one of the party, addressed himself with all the energy and skill of his nature.
 
The course was up and down continually, though none of the swells in the prairie was of much height. The youth rode slightly in advance and never made his way to the top of one of the slight elevations without a quicker throbbing of the heart and a misgiving which made the situation of the most trying nature.
 
It was the dread of the hostiles, with whom Wolf Ear had joined himself, that led him to make a longer bend to the south than even his father had contemplated. True, as he well knew, they were not the sole Indians to be dreaded, but they were the only ones of whom he had positive knowledge. Others were likely to be encountered at any time, and it may be said that as they drew nearer the agency, the peril increased.
 
A half-dozen miles from where the family had been reunited, they approached a higher elevation than any that had yet been crossed. Brinton asked the rest to halt at the base, while he dismounted and carefully went to the top on foot.
 
It was well he took this precaution, for his friends, who were watching his crouching figure as he cautiously went up the incline, saw him abruptly halt and peer over the ridge, in a way which showed he had perceived something. He remained but a minute, when he hurried back, pale and excited.
 
"There are fifty hostiles!" he exclaimed in an undertone, "and they are only a little way off!"