The moon was now well up in the sky, and the members of the party were enabled to discern objects at a greater distance than at any time since starting. When Tom Hardynge announced that they had passed through this spur of mountains, the three instinctively¹ turned their eyes to the westward², where the prairie stretched away until it vanished in the gloom.  
"There's a clean hundred miles or more of level plain," added the hunter. "I've traveled it many a time and I ought to know."
 
"You're right," said Dick. "That's a good sweep of prairie, and we ought to make good time over it, for our horses have had a long rest."
 
"There's only one thing that troubles me," ventured Ned Chadmund, when the heads of all their animals were turned westward; "I'm so hungry and faint that I can hardly sit on my horse."
 
"That's bad," said Tom, feelingly. "I never thought of that when we had a good chance among the mountains to fetch down some game. We ain't apt to run agin anythin' in the hash line while riding along on the prairie; but we'll try it, and if we don't we'll turn off to a little spot where I know we shall hit it."
 
Ned expressed his willingness to do this, and the company started. Instead of going in Indian file, as they had done while among the mountains, they rode side by side at an easy swinging gallop³, the prairie lightening up as they advanced, and the surface continuing of the same impact character, which rendered it the most favorable possible for horseback riding. To one who, like the boy, had tramped and trudged⁴ along until scarcely able to stand, this change was of the most pleasing character. He felt comfortable and anxious to ride ahead for hours, the only drawback being that gnawing⁵ hunger, that weary faintness, which could only be dissipated by food.
 
Occasionally, while riding along in this manner, the three would halt and listen, and then, when certain that they heard nothing, move on again. This was repeated several times, until the two hunters remained motionless longer than usual. When Ned asked the cause of this, Tom replied by asking him whether he heard anything. He answered that he did not.
 
"I hear it," added the scout⁶, as he dismounted and applied⁷ his ear to the ground.
 
"What do you make it?" inquired Dick.
 
"Can't tell."
 
Hardynge remained standing⁸ beside his steed for several minutes, looking off to the southward, and then he knelt down and bent⁹ his ear to the ground again.
 
"It is off yonder," he added, pointing to the southward, and leaping at the same time upon the back of his mustang.
 
Ned listened to catch some explanation; but at this interesting juncture¹⁰, for some reason only known to themselves, the two men began talking in the Indian tongue. It was interesting to hear their gutteral exclamations¹¹, but it would have been much more interesting could he have understood what they were saying, and to know why it was, when talking, that they laughed and looked meaningly toward him. The lad affected¹² not to notice all this, although it piqued¹³ his curiosity not a little.
 
A half mile more was ridden at a leisurely¹⁴ gait, when all three drew up their mustangs, and Dick Morris looked meaningly at their young comrade.
 
"Do you hear anything now?"
 
Yes, there could be no mistaking it, faint though it was. All three sat motionless and listened. At first, it might have been taken for the far-off rumble¹⁵ of thunder—a fluttering, distant rattle¹⁶, such as is occasionally heard during the hot summer months. It was not exactly of that character, either, being more like a continuous rattle, coming from some point many miles away.
 
"What do you suppose it is?" asked Tom, of the lad.
 
"I never heard anything like it before. What is it?"
 
"Does it sound like the tramp of animals?"
 
"Not much, it seems to me. It can't be that."
 
"That's just what it is."
 
Ned started.
 
"So it is—so it is. I can notice it now. I hear the sound of horses hoofs¹⁷ on the prairie. The sound is growing more distinct, too, and they must be coming this way, Tom. Is that so?"
 
"That's just what's the matter. We'll see 'em all inside of half an hour, unless we turn tail and run."
 
"Let's do it, then, for there can't be much time to spare."
 
The hunters showed no disposition¹⁸ to flee from the danger approaching, and Ned began to grow alarmed.
 
"Why do you stay here?" he asked. "If your horses are so fleet that no one can catch them, what is the use of letting them do it?"
 
"Don't get scart, my boy," returned Tom Hardynge. "We'll take care of you."
 
He much preferred that they should all take care of themselves by giving their animals the rein¹⁹ and permitting the Apaches to make no nearer approach. But the scouts²⁰ were obstinate^{21............}