No; stand back, and don't muss up the tracks.
There are foot-prints here--Indians, by heaven! Three of them Indians!" "Some plainsmen wear moccasins." "They don't walk that way--toes in; and see this hair in McDonald's fingers--that's Indian, sure.

Here is where a horse fell, and slid down the bank.

Is n't that a bit of broken feather caught in the bush, Carroll?
Bring it over here." The three bent over the object.
"Well, what do you say?
You men are both plainsmen." "Cheyenne," returned Carroll promptly.

"But what the hell are they doing here ?" Hamlin shook his head.
"It will require more than guessing to determine that," he said sternly.

"And there is only one way to find out.