She took her faithful retainers with her and led them farther up the ravine to a retreat that was truly inaccessible.

She moved them, bag and baggage.
Of course, there was a scene; the children cried, the women wailed, the men wept.

But she told them that traitors had betrayed their hiding place to the dastardly Duke of Dallas, and any moment might bring his cutthroat crew upon them.

Some of the younger bloods were for remaining and selling their lives dearly, but Ma would not hear to it.
It was quite an undertaking to move a whole nomad tribe, for there were all the household belongings, the cattle, the sheep, the goats, the milk-white Arabian steeds, the butter and eggs and homemade preserves, and all the paraphernalia of a warlike people.

It is surprising how stuff accumulates in a mountain fastness.