n-up. 'Taint no matter o' use our
squattin' hyar. No doubt o' what's been done. The main body's goed
below; them we see's only a party left to guard the gap. Guess it's all
over wi' the poor critters in the cabin, or will be afore we kin do
anythin' to help 'em. Ef they ain't kilt, they're captered by this
time."

Hamersley can scarce restrain himself from uttering an audible groan.
Only the evident danger keeps him silent.

"I say agin, Frank, 'tair no use our stayin' hyar. Anythin' we kin do
must be did elsewhar. Let's go back for our mules, fetch 'em away, an'
see ef we kin clomb up one o' these hyar hills. Thar's a good skirtin'
o' kiver on thar tops. Ef the anymals can't be tuk up, we kin leave
them in some gulch, an' go on to the summut ourselves. Thar we may
command a view o' all that passes. The sogers'll be sartin to kum past
in the mornin', bringin' thar prisoners. Then we'll see who's along wi'
'em, and kin foller thar trail."

"Walt, I'm willing to do as you direct. I feel as if I'd lost all hope,
and could give way to downright despair."

"Deespair be durned! Thar's allers a hope while thar's a bit o' breth
in the body. Keep up yur heart, man! Think o' how we war 'mong them
wagguns. That oughter strengthen yur gizzern. Niver say die till yur
dead, and the crowner are holdin' his 'quest over yur karkidge. Thet's
the doctryne o' Walt Wilder."

As if to give illustrative proof of it, he catches hold of his comrade's
sleeve; with a pluck turns him around, and leads him back to the place
where they had parted from the mules. These are released from their
pickets, then led silently, and in a circuitous direction, towards the
base of one of the buttes.

Its sides appear too steep for even a mule to scale them; but a
boulder-strewed ravine offers a suitable place for secreting the
animals.

There they are left, their lariats affording sufficient length to make
them fast to the rocks, while a _tapado_ of the saddle-blankets secures
them against binneying.

Having thus disposed of the animals, the two men scramble on up the
ravine, reach the summit of the hill, and sit down among the cedar-scrub
that crowns it, determined to remain there and await the "development of
events."

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

APPROACHING THE PREY.

Were we gifted with clairvoyance, it might at times spare us much
misery, thought at other times it would make it. Perhaps 'tis better we
are as we are.

Were