s. There reigns the
stillness of death. Unless the wind be rustling among the pinnate
fronds of the acacias, or the unseen locust utters its harsh shrieking
amid the parched herbage, the weary wayfarer may ride on, cheered by no
other sound than his own voice, or the footfall of his horse.

There was still the chance that my followers might hear me. I knew that
they would not stray from the trail. Though they must have been far
behind when I entered the chapparal, following the tracks, they would in
time be sure to come up.

It was a question whether they would follow mine, or those of the steed.
This had not occurred to me before, and I paused to consider it. If
the former, then was I wrong in moving onward, as I should only be going
_from_ them, and leading them on a longer search. Already had I given
them a knot to unravel--my devious path forming a labyrinthine maze.

It was more than probable they would follow _me_--in the belief that I
had some reason for deviating from the trail of the steed, perhaps for
the purpose of heading or intercepting him.

This conjecture decided me against advancing farther--at least until
some time should elapse, enough for them to get up.

Out of compassion for my hard-breathing horse, I dismounted.

At intervals, I shouted aloud, and fired shots from my pistols after
each I listened; but neither shot nor shout reached me in reply. They
must have been distant indeed, not to hear the report of fire-arms; for
had they heard them, they would have been certain to make answer in a
similar manner. All of them carried rifles and pistols.

I began to think it was full time for them to have reached me. Again I
fired several shots; but, as before, echo was the only reply. Perhaps
they had _not_ followed me? perhaps they had kept on upon the trail of
the steed, and it might be leading them far away, beyond hearing of the
reports? perhaps there was not yet time for them to have arrived?

While thus conjecturing, my ears were assailed by the screeching of
birds at some distance off. I recognised the harsh notes of the jay,
mingling with the chatter of the red cardinal.

From the tones, I knew that these birds were excited by the presence of
some enemy. Perhaps they were defending their nests against the black
snake or the _crotalus_.

Or it might be my followers approaching! it might be the steed--like me,
still wandering in the chapparal?

I sprang to my saddle to get a be