Fred felt an unconquerable aversion to the Apache Waukko, whose horrible face and appearance caused him more than once to half suspect that he was a ghoul or demon.

He again made an attempt to open communication with him, but he uttered a sort of grunt that Fred took as a command for silence, and he resolved that he would die before he would repeat the attempt.
The gorge continued its winding course among the mountains, some of the turns being at very sharp angles.

The width of the ravine varied from fifty to five hundred feet, the walls on either side showing about the same difference of altitude.

At times they were perpendicular, and then again sloped at such a moderate angle that a horse could have galloped up them without difficulty.
The mountainous nature of the country rather increased than diminished, and, looking right and left, in front and rear, the jagged peaks were forever visible, the distances varying, but the number greater and greater.

At times it seemed as if the ravine were about to terminate suddenly against the solid wall of the mountain, but, as they rode forward, the open way was there, albeit the angle was sharp, and the little party suffered no interruption of progress until near the close of the day.
The noon halt which Fred expected was not made.
He was hungry and supposed that the Apaches were; but, if so, they manifestly considered it of more importance to get forward than to satisfy that hunger.