"The wisest course is to stop trying to find the river," remarked the husband, "for every effort only takes us farther away; we might as well go into camp right here."
"And freeze to death."
"No; we will ride round until we find some shelter from this cutting wind, and then make ourselves as comfortable as we can until morning. Do you see that light away to the south?"
That which the ranchman observed was the glow already referred to as attracting the notice of Brinton. The latter saw it in its true direction—that is, in the northern horizon, from which the bewilderment of his parents will be evident.
In the hope of finding their way to the river the couple acted upon what might be considered a compromise. It is not necessary to say that every yard thus traversed increased the space between them and the youth who, at that moment, was groping blindly in quest of them.
The wanderings of the stray ones, however, were fortunately not long continued, when the ponies of their own accord descended a depression in the prairie. It was not deep or well protected, and was not reached until after they had passed over several elevations, but they accepted the shelter thankfully, and dismounted.
The three were cramped from their long constraint, and Edith ran around and here and there for some minutes before she was willing to be tucked away for the night. Their abundant clothing enabled them to get along much better than might be supposed; the little one lay between father and mother, the ponies being allowed to stay by themselves. As in the case of Brinton, the long wintry night passed without disturbance or incident.
With the coming of daylight Mr. Kingsland roused himself. Seeing his wife and child were still sleeping, he did not awake them, and took the best survey he could of their surroundings.
The weather was still intensely cold and the sky overcast. A look at his watch showed it was near eight o'clock when he clambered out of the depression and looked about him.
The first discovery to cause surprise was the shelter that they had enjoyed during the night. Instead of being a ravine, like that where Brinton had slept, this was a rough irregular excavation, some forty or fifty feet in diameter. The sides sloped gently, the whole appearance being that of an immense hole left by some great explosion of gunpowder, to which a providential chance had guided their horses.