But Lightning Jo had made up his mind to remain where he was, and no persuasion could induce him to change his location. He declared that he could accomplish nothing by stumbling around in the dark, while Egbert would be pretty certain to break his neck in some of the pitfalls that were to be encountered at every step.
And without attempting to depict the dismal expedients which the wretched lover resorted to, to while away the unspeakably dreary hours, we now hasten forward to the moment when the unmistakable light of morning stole through the hills, and Lightning Jo, springing to his feet, declared that the moment had come when the terrible suspense was to end, and they were soon to learn the worst that had happened to the party and to the one dear one—Lizzie Manning.
The first point toward which the two directed their steps was the canon, through which they had had their memorable passage. This was but a short distance away, and, upon being reached, it was found as they had anticipated, entirely clear of running water. Here and there were muddy, stagnant pools collected in the hollows and cavities, but nothing of any living person, or animal, or debris of wagons, was discerned.
“Had we not better descend and follow the canon to the outlet?” asked Egbert. “We shall not miss any thing then on the way.”
Lightning Jo acted upon the suggestion, and after a little searching for a safe means of descent, the bottom was reached, and they pursued their way in silence, agitated by strange emotions, as they recalled the memorable experience of a few nights before.
They walked side by side, neither breaking the impressive stillness by a word, but carefully scanning every foot of ground passed in quest of some remnant of those who had been their companions in the terrible descent.
Suddenly the scout pointed to a wagon-wheel that was driven in between two jutting points of rocks, where it had been immovably fixed by the tremendous momentum.
Both scanned it a few minutes, and, seeing nothing more, passed on for fully a quarter of a mile, when the basin to which reference has been made was reached, and here a great surprise awaited them.
It being quite shallow, the water had been carried away by several outlets, and not a man had been borne beyond. Fragments of the wagons were scattered in every direction, and at one side of the dry lake were to be seen Captain Shields, Gibbons and a number of the men covering up a large grave, while seated around were several women with their children, as miserable and desolate-looking objects as could possibly be imagined.
Not having dared to hope that so many could have escaped, the two paused in mute silence and stared at them, their looks after the first startling shock being directed in anxious quest of the one—Lizzie Manning—a look that was unrewarded by a sight of the beautiful maiden, for whom both were ready to do and dare any thing.