The minutes seemed like hours.
The driver kept his animals steady, and we rattled along.
At last, as I perceived the steep slope of the road, I looked out, and saw that the Pass was widening out, and we must be nearing the end of it.

"Keep still," said Jack, without moving a feature.

My heart seemed then to stop beating, and I dared not move again, until I heard him say, "Thank God, we're out of it! Get up, Mattie! See the river yonder?
We'll cross that to-night, and then we'll be out of their God d----d country!" This was Jack's way of working off his excitement, and I did not mind it.

I knew he was not afraid of Apaches for himself, but for his wife and child.

And if I had been a man, I should have said just as much and perhaps more.
We were now down in a flat country, and low alkali plains lay between us and the river.