“What will you do about the puma?” asked Carlos, somewhat envious of the fine shooting which had brought down the animal.
“Leave it for the present. Its skin is worth coming back for but the good news of your return mustn’t be kept from the others any longer. Come, all of you.”
“This way? Straight ahead?”
“Yes. Where you see the trail divide—beyond that tree—a fork of it goes down into what appears to be a ‘bottomless pit.’ I have explored the gulch for a little distance, but found no traces of anything I sought. Thus far—it’s all been seeking and no finding,” finished Mr. Burnham, with a sigh.
“Well, it’s only such a little while. Not many days yet.”
“No, lad, but they’ve seemed long to my wife. Your safe return will put new life and courage into us all.”
“I hope so,” cheerfully responded Carlota.
But Carlos was silent. For them both and without consulting her again, he had decided that, after a brief stop with their friends, they would resume their own interrupted journey toward the “north” and the father they must find. Mr. Burnham observed the boy’s silence but made no comment on it, and they started onward through the canyon leading the animals, for riding was both perilous and uncomfortable. They had speedily left the smooth glade where they had rested and met, and now the canyon walls rose sheer and almost impassable.
Carlota continually looked back and, at a moment when they paused to take breath, she whispered to her brother:
“I can’t bear to leave good, kind Dennis there, alone. Maybe he is really dying! I must go back and see.”