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----- {{frankp192.png}} || bred of the desert ||


south in the gloom. Complete darkness found
them deep among high hills.

The men drew rein beside a little stream.
They watered the horses, and then, throwing off
saddle-bags and gathering brush, they built a
tiny fire. Glover appeared nervous and worried,
and when the meal was ended turned to mount
and be off again. But Johnson called him back.
Johnson was seated on the ground, close beside
Jim, and Glover sat down with them. Thus they
waited, silent, reflective, watching, while about
them pressed the close night, seeming by its touch
to impart to them something of its solemnity.
Off at one side the horses, bridled and saddled,
waited also -- watching and waiting, motionless,
and over them all brooded a stillness that was
mighty and portentous. Thus they waited for
two hours, wrapped in profound silence, and then
Johnson, after scanning the sky, rose and made
for the horses. The others quickly followed him.
Their trail led into a narrow defile. Up this
winding way they rode, with Johnson in the lead,
up and ever up, until they burst through a clump
of brush at the top. There they drew rein and
again waited, silent, reflective, watching. Presently
Glover, with eyes turned eastward, uttered
a grunt which meant relief.

The clouds,in the eastern sky were breaking.
Through the heavy banks came a faint glimmering
of moonlight. At first but a hair-line, it widened
out, reaching up and across the sky, developing
steadily into the semblance of a frozen flash of


[[192]]

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