Mr. Hardy then said for that night it was unnecessary to keep watch
as usual. The Indians had pushed on and could no longer dread
pursuit, and therefore there was no risk of a night attack. Besides
which, there was little chance of his sleeping. This proposition
was a most acceptable one, and in a very short time a perfect
silence reigned in the camp.
Before daybreak they were again on the march, all on foot and
leading their horses, in order to spare them as much as possible
should they be required at night. Speed was now no object. It was,
they knew, hopeless to attack in broad daylight, as the Indians
would be probably more than a match for them, and Ethel's life
would be inevitably sacrificed. They walked, therefore, until
within six or seven miles of the gorge, nearer than which they
dared not go, lest they might be seen by any straggling Indian.
Their halting-place was determined by finding a stream with an
abundance of fresh grass on its banks. They dared not light a fire,
but chewed some of the tough charqui, and watched the distant cleft
in the hill which led to the ardently wished-for goal.
As evening fell they were all in the saddle, and were pleased to
find that the horses were decidedly fresher for their rest. They
did not draw rein until the ground became stony, and they knew that
they must be at the mouth of the gorge.
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