“Wait till they’re clar gone,” said Garey. “They’ll be out o’ sight in three skips o’ a goat.”
“Yes! stay where we are a bit,” added another; “some of them may ride back; something may be forgotten.”
This was not improbable; and in spite of the promptings of our appetites, we resolved to remain a while longer in the defile.
We descended straightway into the thicket to make preparations for moving—to saddle our horses and take off their mufflings, which by this time had nearly blinded them. Poor brutes! they seemed to know that relief was at hand.
While we were engaged in these operations, our vidette was kept at the top of the hill to watch both bands, and warn us when their heads should sink to the prairie level.
“I wonder why the Navajoes have gone by the Ojo de Vaca,” remarked our chief, with an apparent anxiety in his manner. “It is well our comrades did not remain there.”
“They’ll be tired o’ waitin’ on us, whar they are,” rejoined Garey, “unless blacktails is plentier among them Musquites than I think for.”
“Vaya!” exclaimed Sanchez; “they may thank the Santisima they were not in our company! I’m spent to a skeleton. Mira! carrai!”
Our horses were at length bridled and saddled, and our lassoes coiled up. Still the vidette had not warned us. We grew every moment more impatient.
“Come!” cried one; “hang it! they’re far enough now. They’re not a-goin’ to be gapin’ back all the way. They’re looking ahead, I’m bound. Golly! thar’s fine shines afore them.”