My heart sank and a sensation of absolute loneliness came over me. Here we were, the two of us, with no one to aid us. Only a short supply of ammunition. It certainly was a desperate situation.
"Cheer up," said Jim. "Here is something to wet your whistle."
He handed over the canteen. I seized it eagerly. I would not have exchanged its old battered tin hulk for diamonds or gold.
I raised it eagerly to my lips and let a stream gurgle down my throat. Talk about whiskey and its enthusiastic effects, I never tasted anything more intoxicating than that water. It made me feel absolutely dizzy.
"What next?" I asked.
"There is nothing to do but to look for them."
"Yes," I said, "I suppose we had better work down to the plains."
"Not much," replied Jim. "You take my word for it that they are back in the range. Ten chances to one if we went down we would fall into the hands of the Apaches."
"Back to the woods for me then," I said very promptly.
"Let's walk a ways and rest the ponies," suggested Jim.