The distance was four times her height, but she quickly produced a
rawhide lariat, which she began to adjust to a timber that had been
exposed in the roof, dirt having been washed away. Many times she looked
back anxiously, fearful of pursuit, until, testing the knot and seeming
satisfied, she threw her body over the edge and slid down.

The Bat patted her on the back, and instinctively they fled as fast as
the woman could run until out of rifle-shot, when her new brave stayed
her flight and made her go slowly that they might not attract attention.
They got at last to the pony-herds, where the Bat found his little
brother with his bunch of ponies. Taking the cherished war-pony and two
others, he mounted his new woman on one, while he led the other beside
his own. They galloped to the hills. Looking back over the intervening
miles of plain, their sharp eyes could see people running about like
ants, in great perplexity and excitement. Papin had discovered his woes,
and the two lovers laughed loud and long. He had made his slaves lay
violent hands on the Bat and he had lashed the girl, Seet-se-be-a
(Mid-day Sun), with a pony whip, but he had lost his woman.

Much as the Bat yearned to steep his hands in the gore of Papin, yet the
exigencies of the girl's escape made it impossible now, as he feared
pursuit. On the mountain-ridge they stopped, watching for the pursuing
party from the Fort, but the Cheyennes swarmed around and evidently
Papin was perturbed.

So they watched and talked, and fondled each other, the fierce Cheyenne
boy and Minataree girl--for she proved to be of that tribe--and they
were married by the ancient rites of the ceremony of the Fastest Horse.

Shortly the tribe moved away to its wintering-grounds, the young couple