"A pig? No, it's a badger, out on the forage. Don't you smell him?"
Chet recovered and unslung his gun. He tried to take aim in the gloom.
"Don't fire!" said Paul. "What is the use? It's only a waste of ammunition. The badger isn't hurting anything, and he's a good distance from the ranch. Let him go."
By the time Chet had listened to all this the badger had disappeared. The animal was not used to being aroused and was more frightened than any one.
They passed on. The very bottom of the Hollow was at hand. The horses proceeded slowly, realizing the peril of the place.
Once Rush went down into a hole nearly throwing Chet over his head. But the youth held on, and Rush arose all right, with nothing but a slight scrape on his left foreleg.
They peered with watchful eyes up and down the silent pass. Not a sign of any life was there. The water flowed on with a muffled murmur and the wind sighed through the deep opening, and that was all. In another five minutes the pass was left behind.
For some reason both boys drew a long breath of relief when the high ground beyond was reached. The strain was gone, and now, by contrast, the road looked as bright to them as if the sun was about to rise.
"Come to think of it, we may as well take it easy," remarked Paul. "It isn't likely that Dottery will care to make a move before daylight."
"Yes; but if we get there sooner, we'll have a chance to rest up a bit, and we need that, and so do the horses."