If it be thus what course are they to pursue? He may look back and see themselves or their animals, then gallop on and report to his comrades.
’Twould be a sinister episode, and they must take steps to prevent it.
They do so by hastily restoring the tapados and leading the mules into a cul-de-sac, where they will be safe from observation.
Again they hear the sound, still resembling a hoofstroke, but not of an animal making way over the ground in walk, trot, or gallop, but as one that refused to advance, and was jibbing.
Between them and it there seems great space, a projecting spur of the butte from which they have just descended. By climbing the ridge for a score of yards or so they can see into the gorge that goes down to the valley.
As the trampling still appears steadfast to the same point, their alarm gives place to curiosity, then impatience. Yielding to this, they scramble up the ridge that screens the kicking animal from their view.
Craning their heads over its crest, they see that which, instead of causing further fear, rather gives them joy.
Just under their eyes, in the gap of the gorge, a man is struggling with a mule. It is a contest of very common occurrence. The animal is saddled, and the man is making attempts to get his leg over the saddle. The hybrid is restive, and will not permit him to put foot in the stirrup. Ever as he approaches it shies back, rearing and pitching to the full length and stretch of the bridle-rein.
Soon as seeing him, they upon the ridge recognise the man thus vexatiously engaged. He is the peon Manuel.
“The durned scoundrel,” hissed Walt, through clenched teeth. “What’s kep him ahint, I wonder?”