Coming back to the fire presently, she indicated to Colina that they were not watched from that side, and that they should now ride on.
Evidently the Indians thinking they had them trapped in the trail were careless. Indians are not fond of scout duty in the dark in any case.
They softly made ready, taking care not to let the firelight betray their activities. Nesis's last act was to heap fresh wood on the fire. Colina, approving all she did was glad to let her run things. She could not guess how she purposed evading the Indians in front.
They mounted, and proceeded into the woods, walking their horses slowly. Colina could not make out the trail, but her horse could.
Nesis led the way. They climbed a little hill and descended the other side. At the bottom the trail was bisected by a shallow stream making its way over a stony bed to the river.
Halting her horse in the middle of it, Nesis allowed Colina to approach, and pointed out to her that they must turn to the right here, and let their horses walk in the water to avoid leaving tracks.
For more than an hour they made a painfully slow journey among the stones. The intelligent horses picked their way with noses close to the ground.
They were now between the steep high banks of a coulée. The trees gradually thinned out, and a wide swath of the starry sky showed overhead. Colina's heart rose steadily.
The Indians could not possibly find the place where they had left the trail until daylight.
They would instantly understand their own stratagem, of course, but they must lose still more time, searching the bed of the creek for tracks leaving it. If only the horses had been fresher!