The old man jerked his head toward the rock.
"He'll steer by that, and I'll keep the fire going till morning."
"But how can he ride all night? He must be half dead now."
"A man like him don't die easy. It's not the muscle and the bones, it's the grit. He says it's him that made the mistake and it's him that's goin' to get us back on the right road."
"What will he do for water?"
"Take an empty cask behind the saddle and trust to God."
"But there's water in one of our casks yet."
"Yes, he knows it, but he's goin' to leave that for us. And we got to hang on to it, Missy. Do you understand that?"
She nodded, frowning and biting her underlip.
"Are you feelin' bad?" said the old man uneasily.