“How do you know?” inquired Reuben.
“Why, you can see for yourself. The wild ponies, as a rule, do not travel much after dark. It is almost dark now, and if they were coming here they would have shown up before this time.”
“Where do you think they are?”
“I don’t know where they are. I thought they were here. If I knew just where they were I would go there, wouldn’t I? I think they will come back here, though, and the only thing for us to do is to keep watch and be sure to be on hand when they do come.”
On two successive days the eager trappers returned to the valley, but the wild horses were not seen. Alone Kit Carson made excursions for many miles in the immediate vicinity, but his efforts were unrewarded and not a sight of the handsome black leader was had. Still the scout did not abandon his efforts. A few days later, at his suggestion, Reuben and Jack once more accompanied him, departing from the camp soon after dinner.
Quietly they rode among the foothills, keeping careful watch on every side. They had almost returned to the place where first the wild horses had been seen when Kit Carson abruptly stopped and, pointing to a place in advance of them, said in a low voice: “There are ponies yonder. Do you see them?”
“I can see something moving,” replied Reuben, after a long silence.
“Well, that’s a drove of ponies. The only thing for us to do is to put out for it and find out whether or not the horse we are after is still there. It may be some other drove. You know they are likely to break up into smaller bands when they get too many together.” Swiftly the trappers rode forward, and their disappointment was keen when they discovered that the horses before them were not those for which they were seeking.
Apparently still as confident as before that he would capture the animal he was so eager to have, Kit Carson either alone or in the company of Reuben daily returned to the valley until more than a week had elapsed. Their efforts were rewarded at last when late one afternoon they discovered the horses making for the same valley in which they had sought shelter when first they had been seen. There was no elation displayed in the manner of the scout, but the determination expressed in his face was so plain that Reuben was deeply impressed.
“Give up? Give up?” said Kit Carson in response to a suggestion of his friend. “I never learned to do that and you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I simply am going to have that black rascal. It’s too bad that Jack isn’t here, for we’ll need him, but we’ll go ahead without him and do the best we can.”