Now he was on watch with the mares in the hollow behind and himself on
the crest rarely turning his head from a wisp of smoke which rose far
south. He knew what that meant. Red Perris was on his trail again,
and this was the morning-fire of the Great Enemy. He had lain on the
ground like a dead man the day before. Now he was risen to battle
again! Instinctively he swung his head and looked at the place where
the saddle had rested the day before, the saddle which he had worked
off with so much wild rolling and scraping against rocks.
He nibbled the grass as he watched, or now and again jerked up his
head to catch the scents which blow truer in the upper air-currents.
It was on one of these occasions that he caught an odor only vaguely
known to him, and known as a danger. He had never been able to label
it but he knew that when the grey mare caught such a scent she was
even more perturbed than when man rode into view. So now he breathed
deep, his great eyes shining with excitement. What could this danger
be which was more to be dreaded than the Great Enemy? Yielding to
curiosity, he headed straight up wind to make sure.
No doubt he thereby gave proof that he was unfitted to lead wild
horses in the mountains.
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