The animals crossed
several low ridges and struck into a coulee which they followed
unhesitatingly. When it petered out in a wide basin, they struck into
another coulee, and continued their course, covering the miles at a
long, swinging trot. At sundown Endicott reined in sharply and pointed
to the northward. "It's the ridge of the Split Rock!" he cried; "and
look, there is the soda hill!" There it was only a mile or two
away--the long black ridge with the huge rock fragment at its end, and
almost touching it, the high round hill that the Texan had described.
The horses pressed eagerly forward, seeming to know that rest and water
were soon to be theirs. "I wonder if they are there," breathed the
girl, "and I wonder if they are--all right."
A few minutes later the horses swung around the base of the hill and,
with an exclamation of relief, Endicott saw two figures seated beside
the detached fragment of rock that lay near the end of the ridge.
The Texan arose slowly and advanced toward them, smiling: "Good
evenin'," he greeted, casually, as he eyed the pair with evident
approval. "You sure come a-runnin'. We didn't expect you 'til along
about noon tomorrow. And we didn't expect you at all," he said to the
girl. "We figured you'd shove on to Timber City, an' then Win would
get a guide an' come back in the mornin'.
Pages:
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310