Another promontory--twin to the first--jutted out to obstruct them.
There was no mystery in the matter.

They saw the mistake they had made.
In escaping under cover of the cloud they had gone too far, ridden direct into a deep embayment of the cliff! Their pursuers, who had turned promptly as they, once more had the advantage.

The outlying point of rocks was nearer to them, and they would be almost certain to arrive at it first.
To the fugitives there appeared no alternative but to ride on, and take the chance of hewing their way through the savages surrounding--for certainly they would be surrounded.
"Git your knife riddy, Frank!" shouted Wilder, as he dug his heels into his horse's side and put the animal to full speed.

"Let's keep close thegither--livin' or dead, let's keep thegither!" Their steeds needed no urging.

To an American horse accustomed to the prairies there is no spur like the yell of an Indian; for he knows that along with it usually comes the shock of a bullet, or the sting of a barbed shaft.
Both bounded off together, and went over the soft sand, silent, but swift as the wind.
In vain.