“If they broke away we ought to find the broken leathers,” said Dave, soberly. “I don’t believe Fanny could slip the knot I tied for her. She never did so before, and I’ve tied her up in the same way a hundred times.”
“Both horses are worth some money,” said Joseph Morris, “not to speak of that really fine saddle Dave has been using. Yes, we must find them by all means, although I must confess I do not know how to begin the search.”
With great care they examined the ground, the scattering rain wetting them thoroughly in the meantime. At last they found something like a trail which led to the northward, along the western slope of the mountain.
“I can’t see anything to do but to follow this trail,” was Joseph Morris’ comment. “But we need not all go. Mr. Crosby, will you look after the other horses and our traps?”
“Assuredly,” answered Aaron Crosby. “But if you are not back by daybreak, what then?”
“Then you might as well move on to Caspar’s place and leave our horses and traps there. Tell Caspar that we will come for them soon.”
So it was arranged, and providing themselves with fresh torches, Joseph Morris and Dave set out on the hunt. They went afoot, for the trail was hilly, full of stones and uncertain, and they did not wish to run any chances of a serious fall.
The storm was now letting up, but the furious downpour had left the hillside exceedingly wet and slippery, while here and there was a hollow filled with water. The wind still blew and this sent down the water from the trees long after the rain had ceased.
Over a mile was covered and they were afraid they had lost the trail when they came out upon a narrow ledge of rocks overlooking a shallow but wide ravine between two of the hills. As they came into the open Dave suddenly clutched his uncle by the arm.
“Put down the torch,” he cried. “Look!”