His own seat at the officers' fire was dear to him, for it brought him close to the Wingate wagons, and in sight--if nothing else--of Molly Wingate.

That young lady did not speak to him all day, but drew close the tilt of her own wagon early after the evening meal and denied herself to all.
As for Banion, he was miles back, in camp with his own wagons, which Woodhull had abandoned, and on duty that night with the cattle guard--a herdsman and not a leader of men now.

He himself was moody enough when he tied his cape behind his saddle and rode his black horse out into the shadows.

He had no knowledge of the fact that the old mountain man, Jackson, wrapped in his blanket, that night instituted a solitary watch all his own.
The hundreds of camp fires of the scattered train, stretched out over five miles of grove and glade at the end of the first undisciplined day, lowered, glowed and faded.

They were one day out to Oregon, and weary withal.