She saw other huts not far off, and from the window of one a light gleamed. She thought she heard men talking, and the bark of a dog, yet she hardly knew what she saw or heard, the horror of the thing she had done so filled and terrified her.
To her mind, it was an awful thing to take a human life, even the life of such a man as Panther Pete. So she ran on blindly, almost heedlessly, yet somehow managed to avoid the other huts, and was not observed by either the men or the dogs.
Soon she found herself close up by a wall of rock that formed part of the rocky hill on that side.
As she could not climb over the hill, she ran on along its base.
This hill formed one side of the little valley containing the lair of Panther Pete, and as she followed on she was taken toward the narrow entrance, where, as she knew from his words, guards were stationed.
She thought of this as she stumbled on, and slowed her pace, trying to become wary, and listened for some sound which would tell her where the guards were located.
Every moment she expected to hear a clamor behind her, announcing the discovery of her flight from the hut and the condition of Panther Pete.
When she thought of what a pursuit by the dogs meant, she could hardly hurry on at all, so weak did that thought make her. But the discovery of Panther Pete was delayed, and she continued to advance along the base of the hill toward the entrance.
As she approached it, she recalled its shape, for through it she had been brought. It was like the neck of a bottle, the valley forming the bottle. High walls were on either side, and the bottle neck was the pass, guarded by sentries probably stationed in the trail, and by others watching on the sides of the walls.
The darkness aided her. She grew more and more cautious, and was able after a time to control her shaking nerves and her fear-wrought fancies, when a pursuit by the dogs and the outlaws was not made.