The sound came from a bend above. For several seconds Oliver hesitated about proceeding.
And yet it had to be done. He must go ahead; there was no other way.
While hesitating, the sound was repeated. But this time it was louder and more capable of interpretation. In spite of himself the boy gave a low laugh.
“Dobbins!” he cried. And in a moment more he was around the bend.
True enough, there stood the mule, shivering and braying all to himself.
It did not take Oliver long to climb upon the animal’s back, and once there he urged the beast on as before. Dobbins had had a short rest, and struck out well.
“Now to find the others. They cannot be so very far away. Get up, Dobbins, you rascal!”
In a few moments more the narrow pass came to an end and Oliver found himself upon an open plain. He tried to peer through the darkness and rain.
To the southward he thought he could discern three figures moving about. Were they his party?