ne another by signs or whispers; as
for most part the horses have been abreast, going in single file only
where the path is narrow.

At length a halt; of such continuance, as to make the captives suppose
they have arrived at some place where they are to pass the remainder of
the night. Or it may be but an obstruction; this probable from their
hearing a sound, easily understood--the ripple of running water. They
have arrived upon the bank of a river.

The San Saba, of course; it cannot be any other. Whether or not, 'tis
the same to them. On the banks of the San Saba they are now no safer,
than if it were the remotest stream in all the territory of Texas.

Whatever be the river whose waters they can hear coursing past, their
guards, now halted upon its bank, have drawn their horses' heads
together, and carry on a conversation. It seems in a strange tongue;
but of this the captives cannot be sure, for it is in low tone--almost a
whisper--the words indistinguishable amid the rush of the river's
current. If heard, it is not likely they would understand. The two men
are Indians, and will talk in the Indian tongue. For this same reason
they need have no fear of freely conversing with one another, since the
savages will be equally unable to comprehend what they say.

To Helen this thought first presents itself; soon as it does, leading
her to call, though timidly and in subdued tone, "Jess!"

She is answered in the same way, Jessie saying, "Helen, I hear you."

"I only wanted to say a word to cheer you. Have courage. Keep up your
heart. It looks dark now; but something may may arise up to save us."

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE.

TIRED TRAVELLERS.

The lower crossing of the San Saba, so frequently referred to, calls for
topographical description.

At this point the stream, several hundred yards wide, courses in smooth,
tranquil current, between banks wooded to the water's edge. The trees
are chiefly cottonwoods, with oak, elm, tulip, wild China, and pecan
interspersed; also the _magnolia grandiflora_; in short, such a forest
as may be seen in many parts of the Southern States. On both sides of
the river, and for some distance up and down, this timbered tract is
close and continuous, extending nearly a mile back from the banks; where
its selvedge of thinner growth becomes broken into glades, some of them
resembling flower gardens, others dense thickets of the _arundo
gigantea_, in the language of the country, "