er-zone, finding
that as he neared the river on this side it was imperative to go deeper
into the willows. In the afternoon he reached a point where he could see
men pacing to and fro on the bluff. This assured him that whatever place
was guarded was one by which he might escape. He headed toward these men
and approached to within a hundred paces of the bluff where they were.
There were several men and several boys, all armed and, after the manner
of Texans, taking their task leisurely. Farther down Duane made out
black dots on the horizon of the bluff-line, and these he concluded were
more guards stationed at another outlet. Probably all the available men
in the district were on duty. Texans took a grim pleasure in such work.
Duane remembered that upon several occasions he had served such duty
himself.

Duane peered through the branches and studied the lay of the land. For
several hundred yards the bluff could be climbed. He took stock of those
careless guards. They had rifles, and that made vain any attempt to pass
them in daylight. He believed an attempt by night might be successful;
and he was swiftly coming to a determination to hide there till dark and
then try it, when the sudden yelping of a dog betrayed him to the guards
on the bluff.

The dog had likely been placed there to give an alarm, and he was
lustily true to his trust. Duane saw the men run together and begin to
talk excitedly and peer into the brake, which was a signal for him to
slip away under the willows. He made no noise, and he assured himself he
must be invisible. Nevertheless, he heard shouts, then the cracking of
rifles, and bullets began to zip and swish through the leafy covert. The
day was hot and windless, and Duane concluded that whenever he touched
a willow stem, even ever so slightly, it vibrated to the top and sent
a quiver among the leaves. Through this the guards had located his
position. Once a bullet hissed by him; another thudded into the ground
before him. This shooting loosed a rage in Duane. He had to fly from
these men, and he hated them and himself because of it. Always in
the fury of such moments he wanted to give back shot for shot. But
he slipped on through the willows, and at length the rifles ceased to
crack.

He sheered to the left again, in line with the rocky barrier, and kept
on, wondering what the next mile would bring.

It brought worse, for he was seen by sharp-eyed scouts, and a hot
fusillade drove him to run