"I'm beginning to feel satiated," said Phil.
"'Satiated' is a good word," said Bill Breakstone, "but it isn't used much on the plains. Still, I'm beginning to feel that way myself, too, and I think we'd better begin to consider the future, which is always so much bigger than the present."
"We must find our horses."
"Of course, and after that we must find the train, which will be our chief problem. It may be where we left it or it may have gone on, thinking that we had been killed by some outlying party of Comanches. But I don't believe Middleton and Arenberg would move without us. They may now be somewhere in these woods looking for us."
"Can you figure out the direction of the valley in which we left our horses?"
Breakstone studied the sun attentively.
"It's southeast from here," he replied, "and I fancy it's not more than three or four miles. Two likely lads like you and me ought to find it pretty soon, and, nine chances out of ten, the horses will be there. We'll take some of the best portions of the deer with us, and start at once."
They chose the choicest pieces of the meat and started, now strong of body and light of heart. Phil's own judgment about the direction agreed with Breakstone's, and in less than an hour they saw familiar ground.
"I'm a good prophet to-day," said Breakstone. "I've got the gift for a few hours at least. I predicted truly about the deer, and now I am going to predict truly about the horses. We'll have them by the bridle inside of half an hour."
In fifteen minutes they were in the little valley, in three minutes they found the horses grazing peacefully, and in two more minutes they caught them.