The cold, glittering sunlight was fast losing its strength; somber hues were stealing over fields of waving brown and yellow grasses, and, as shadows deepened and lengthened, the dampness and feeling of night crept into the air. A dense silence enveloped the vast expanse of wilderness; even the breeze which gently touched their faces seemed to be dying away.
"If that bronc doesn't turn up mighty soon we'll have to hike back without him," growled Dick, glancing at the sky.
"Oh, ginger! That's only too true," sighed Tim. "Before the moon comes up it'll be black as pitch."
"And if night falls while we're down here, we may do some falling in going up," grinned Dick.
"The prize is yours, son," laughed Tim.
For over an hour the boys kept up their search, finally reaching a dense forest. They ventured only a short distance within its shadowed, mysterious depths, for both realized that to delay any longer would mean a difficult, as well as dangerous, struggle back to camp through the darkness.
"An' we can't do a bit o' good stayin' here," wailed Tim.
"Anyway, it's mighty lucky the grub was divided up between the two packhorses."
"Their ways are beyond understanding."
"And suppose we lose this one altogether; wouldn't that be awful? All of our prospector's tools snugly tucked away on his back, too."