"I am not so selfish as to wish harm to reach them, even if we are safe!" said Pond, testily.
"That is as much as to say that I am selfish. Well, I acknowledge it. I go in for number one. If they can't take ordinary care of themselves, let them suffer."
Willie Pond made no answer, but rode on in silence. Night was now upon them, and all was still except the thud of the galloping hoofs upon the plain.
Suddenly a gleam of fire was seen far ahead. The Texan noted it, and swerved off to the left.
"There is the camp," he said. "I can easily find our resting-place now. I was afraid we would not see their fires until we were right up to the timber. But they are careless with their fire as they are with their smoke. We shall have moonlight in an hour, and in less time we'll be in camp."
He rode on now, more slowly, for the horses were tired, and he seemed to know so well where to go that there was no haste.
The moon was just above the trees when the Texan led the way into a narrow ravine, with heavy timber on either side. Up this, full ten minutes they rode, and then an exclamation of pleased wonder broke from the lips of Willie Pond. For they came out into an open circular plain or area of several acres in extent, covered with rich grass and centered by a bright, mirror-like lake.
"What a lovely spot!" cried Pond. "Who on earth would dream of finding such a paradise inside of gates so dark and rude."
"One who had been here before," said the Texan. "But speak low, for careless as they may be over there in camp, some one might be outside listening."
"Why, it is over a mile away, is it not?"