The pack had found where he had slept, and now the trail was hot.

Satisfied that they would soon overtake him, Duane set about climbing the cottonwood, which in his condition was difficult of ascent.
It happened to be a fairly large tree with a fork about fifteen feet up, and branches thereafter in succession.

Duane climbed until he got above the enshrouding belt of blackness.

A pale gray mist hung above the brake, and through it shone a line of dim lights.

Duane decided these were bonfires made along the bluff to render his escape more difficult on that side.