Thereafter Pringle had no mercy on his horse.

Ride as he might, those who followed had the inner circle; when he rounded the fires and struck the hill his start was perilously slight.

While the footing was soft he urged the wearied horse up the slope; at the first rocky space he abandoned the poor beast lest the floundering of shod hoofs should betray him.

He took off saddle and bridle; he hung the canteen over his shoulder and pressed on afoot.
A light breeze had overcast the stars with thin and fleecy clouds.
This made for Pringle's safety; it also made the going harder--and it would have been hard going by daylight.
The slope became steeper; ledges of rock, little at first, became larger and more frequent; he came to bluffs that barred his progress, slow and painful at best; he was forced to search to left or right for broken places where he could climb.

Bits of rock, dislodged by his feet, fell clattering despite his utmost care; he heard the like from below, to the left, to the right.