'No! I guess you can walk that far,' returned Lem, 'an' I reckon you'd better not come back again without the horse. I mayhap would like to ride Yankee Boy mysel' an' have a look round.'
Poor Jack! He looked wistfully at the recumbent figure of Jeff, who was still in a deep slumber, and then, seeing there was no help for it, bravely put the best face he could on the matter, and set forth. He carried a long leather rope to catch the horse with, and walked towards the trees, which were about a couple of miles from the camp.
As he approached them, he noticed they were growing at the entrance of a deep ravine that ran back towards the mountains, with a creek running through it. It was a very rough place; boulders lay strewed about, but here and there were patches of grass which looked so much fresher and greener than that which grew on the prairie, that Jack noticed the difference. It also struck him that the grass looked as if it had been freshly trampled, and in a moment the idea flashed into his mind that Nigger had, without doubt, wandered up the ravine. Jack never hesitated a moment, but started to follow up the tracks he saw so plainly. It was a pleasant change from the hot prairie, as the trees shaded him from the sun, and he climbed steadily on over the stony path, hoping every minute to come on the truant. The ravine ran between towering walls of rock, covered with piñon and oak-scrub, and completely hid all the adjoining prairie from view.
At last Jack turned a corner of rock, and saw ahead a small band of bronchos or prairie horses. He hurried on, hoping to find the object of his search, but, alas! Nigger was not amongst them, and his weary toil up the long ravine had been on a false trail, after all! The wild ponies were scared at the sight of a human being appearing in the lonely cañon, and scampered away up the steep sides of the precipice like goats, leaving Jack gazing sadly after them. It was a great disappointment, and tears were not far from the boy's eyes as, tired out, he sat down on a rock for a rest. It was no use pursuing the hunt for Nigger any higher up there, and seeing it would be quicker to retrace his steps than climb up the sides of the rock, he turned to make his way down again. It was long past noon by the time he had scrambled out of the ravine and stood once more on the prairie.
There was no time to lose, and with many misgivings as to the reception he would receive from the indignant Lem, Jack hurried back as fast as he could towards the camp. He was afraid that his long and, alas! useless delay might also have vexed his friend Jeff, which was a thing to be avoided, if possible.
Ahead of him he saw the quaint Mexican village, but something strange had taken place in his absence! What could have happened? Quite puzzled, he rubbed his eyes and ran on faster towards the place where they had camped, and reaching it, could hardly believe his own eyes when he saw nothing of the prairie waggon, or the horses, or the camp he had left in the morning!
CHAPTER VI.
JACK IS DESERTED.
Jack stood on the forsaken camping-ground, and the truth dawned slowly on him—his companions had gone on and left him behind! He noticed the still damp embers of the extinguished fire, and though there was every indication of their recent presence, not a sign could he see of the two men.