The night shut about us black, and discouraging, with
scarcely a star visible in the sky, by which we could determine our
direction. I was quickly lost in this blind groping, unable to even
guess the points of the compass, but Tim apparently possessed the
mysterious instinct of the pathfinder, although what dim signs guided
him I could not decipher. To me it was all chance; while he kept
steadily moving, occasionally relieving his feelings by an oath, but
never hesitating for longer than a moment.
We became mere shadows, groping through the void, barely perceptible to
our own strained eyes. Now and then we drifted apart, and were obliged
to call out so as to locate the others. We seemed to be traveling
across a deserted, noiseless land, the only sound the stumbling hoofs
of the horses, or the occasional tinkle of some near-by stream,
invisible in the darkness. Kennedy led the way, after I had confessed
my inability to do so, and, I think, must have remained afoot most of
the time, judging from the sound of his voice; advising us of the
pitfalls ahead. It was some hours before we finally emerged from this
broken land, and came forth onto a dry, rolling prairie, across which
we advanced at a somewhat swifter gait. In all this time I had never
relaxed my grip on the bridle-rein of Eloise's horse, drawing her up
close beside me, whenever the way permitted, conscious that she must
feel, even as I did, the terrible loneliness of our surroundings, and
the strain of this slow groping through the unknown.
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