For a considerable time Hampton supposed him asleep,
until he accidentally caught the stealthy glance which followed his
slightest movement, and instantly realized that the old weasel was
alert. Murphy had been beaten, yet evidently remained unconquered,
biding his chance with savage stoicism, and the other watched him
warily even while seeming to occupy himself with the field-glass.
At last they saddled up, and, at first leading their horses, passed
down the _coulee_ into the more precipitous depths of the narrow
canyon. This proved hardly more than a gash cut through the rolling
prairie, rock strewn, holding an insignificant stream of brackish
water, yet was an ideal hiding-place, having ample room for easy
passage between the rock walls. The men mounted, and Hampton, with a
wave of his hand, bade the old scout assume the lead.
Their early advance was slow and cautious, as they never felt certain
what hidden enemies might lurk behind the sharp corners of the winding
defile, and they kept vigilant eyes upon the serrated sky-line. The
savages were moving north, and so were they. It would be remarkably
good fortune if they escaped running into some wandering band, or if
some stray scout did not stumble upon their trail.
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