Timoteo and the
Indian crept into the forest and were soon lost sight of, while Old
Stabbed Arm and I, with the horses, retraced our steps, and reached
the open land again.
After an earnest conversation my companion
shouldered his rifle and went off to hunt, and I was left with only
the companionship of the grazing horses. I remained behind to water
the animals, and protect our goods from any prowling savage who might
chance to be in the neighborhood. My saddle-bed was spread under a
large burning bush, or incense tree, and my self-imposed duty was
to keep a fire burning in the open, that its smoke might be seen by
day and its light by night.
Going exploring a little, I discovered a much better descent down the
precipice, and water was more easily brought up. Indeed, I decided
that, if a certain deep chasm were bridged over, it might be possible
to get the horses themselves to descend by a winding way. With this
object in view I felled saplings near the place, and in a few hours
constructed a rough bridge, strong enough to bear a horse's weight.
Whether the animals could smell the water flowing at the bottom, or
were more agile than I had thought, I cannot tell, but they descended
the almost perpendicular path most wonderfully, and soon were taking
draughts of the precious liquid with great gusto. Leaving the horses
to enjoy their drink, I ascended the stream for some distance, in
order to discover, if possible, where the flow came from.
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