She had ridden a mile, perhaps, when it occurred to her she had better discover the whereabouts of the train. Accordingly she reined in, and raising her eyes, slowly scanned the prairie before her.
It was bare; the train was not in sight.
Thinking some intervening hillock hid them from her sight, she rode some distance at right angles; but still no white-capped wagons did she see.
She certainly must have become turned round; she must be bewildered as to the direction she had been pursuing.
But no. She distinctly remembered seeing her shadow at her right hand when pursuing the rabbit. She was certain of that—quite sure. What easier than to ride back, keeping the shadow to the left of her? She could not then go astray.
Christina was quick-witted. She had no sooner found the wagons were not in sight when the above reflection ran through her mind. She was impulsive, decided; and knowing this to be the only means of again finding the wagons, started back, with her shadow over her left shoulder.
“Man proposes, God disposes.”
She soon discovered that. No sooner had she started on the return track, than, as if to vex and annoy her, a bank of snow-colored clouds rose rapidly in the south. At the same moment a southerly breeze came lightly over the plain.
As said before, Kissie was a girl of keen and quick perceptions. She saw the bank of clouds arising; she knew if not breeding a terrible squall, they were at least rolling on to obscure the sun; then what were her chances of regaining camp?
She knew they were few; she knew the necessity of hard riding; and, plying the whip again, rode at a gallop with the shadow still over her left shoulder.