A long, low line of hills was looming up before the travelers. Here and there a dark, scraggly tree spotted their surface, while mingling in with the soft billowing folds of grass, which, under the effects of the faint breeze, seemed to ripple like waves of the sea, were stretches of purplish earth.
“An’ beyond them I suppose it looks just like this; an’ beyond some other hills just like this again,” grumbled Larry. “Whew, but it’s gettin’ hot! If there’s any shade on the other side, for goodness’ sake let’s take a rest. How do you know we’re goin’ in the right direction, Bob Somers?”
“By the aid of map and compass,” answered Bob. “Of course, though, Teddy Banes knows the easiest route; so I’m leaving it to him.”
“How far is he going with us?”
“To the Cree village.”
“Then me leave,” grunted the half-breed.
As the seven horsemen cantered swiftly through the tall grass, beating it under foot, the crest of the hills rose higher and sharper against the sky. Instead of making directly toward them, as Larry expected, Teddy Banes soon swerved to the left, and the blond lad finally discovered that he was leading them toward a point where gray masses of shadow indicated a deep cleft in the slopes.
Eagerly he kept his eyes on the grateful shade, watching it growing stronger with a feeling of intense satisfaction; and when at last his sorrel picked its way into a pass cluttered with underbrush and stones he gave a shout of approval.
By the side of an overhanging slope the half-breed drew rein.
“Much hot,” he said, using a gorgeously red handkerchief to mop his perspiring face. “But this is nothings. In a few days you see.”