"They" would hardly reach him there.

He would stay at Gold Mountain two or three months, and then work his way down into Mexico.
McTeague tramped steadily forward, still descending the lower irregularities of the Panamint Range.

By nine o'clock the slope flattened out abruptly; the hills were behind him; before him, to the east, all was level.

He had reached the region where even the sand and sage-brush begin to dwindle, giving place to white, powdered alkali.
The trails were numerous, but old and faint; and they had been made by cattle, not by men.

They led in all directions but one--north, south, and west; but not one, however faint, struck out towards the valley.
"If I keep along the edge of the hills where these trails are," muttered the dentist, "I ought to find water up in the arroyos from time to time." At once he uttered an exclamation.