It was a highly dangerous bit of work, and when it was over the great beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. To him it was as if the last few seconds had been an age.
The other snakes had not followed him, but, nevertheless, he lost no time in leaving the spot on a run. Five minutes later he was nearly a quarter of a mile from the vicinity.
He had gone at right angles to the course he imagined would take him back to the ranch, and now he found he must make a detour around a hill covered with cactus and other prickly plants.
By this time Allen was thoroughly worn out and hungry to the last degree. Bitterly he regretted the loss of his favorite mare, Lilly.
"If I had her I imagine I could strike home inside of a couple of hours," he said to himself. "But on foot it will take me until noon or longer."
But there was no use to grumble, and after resting a spell the young man again started on his weary tramp through thicket and brush, over hills and through hollows. More than once he stumbled and fell, and it was all he could do at times to regain his feet.
"It's no fun to be afoot on the long range," he soliloquized. "A mile seems three times as long as when on horseback."
But there was no help for it; he must go on, and on he went, his feet now so sore in his wet boots that he could hardly take a regular step.
As he proceeded, he looked about for something to eat, but outside of a few half-green berries, found nothing. Birds were numerous, but without firearms they were out of his reach.
A less experienced person than Allen would have been much frightened by the solitude and loneliness. But the young ranchman was accustomed to being out alone for days at a time, and he did not mind it. He wished to get home more for bodily comforts than aught else.