He rode steadily against the black night wall, as though unconscious of his actions, yet forgetting no trick, no skill of the plains.

But the equally silent man behind clung to him like a shadow of doom, watching his slightest motion--a Nemesis that would never let go.
When the first signs of returning day appeared in the east, the two left their horses in a narrow canyon, and crept to the summit of a ridge.

Below lay the broad valley of the Powder.

Slowly the misty light strengthened into gray, and became faintly tinged with crimson, while the green and brown tints deepened beneath the advancing light, which ever revealed new clefts in the distant hills.

Amid those more northern bluffs a thin spiral of blue smoke was ascending.