"Which way, Dave?" Boston Joe asked.

"We had better make west. It is lucky we shall have the moon, for there
is no traveling over the hills in the dark if you don't know the way.
Anyhow, we will make straight back at present, or we may come upon those
fellows riding round. We will go in Indian file. I will go first, with a
pony tied to mine. The two lads will follow, then either you, Zeke, or
Joe, can take the last pony, and the other one ride in the rear, so that
you can keep us well in sight, and yet be far enough off to use your
ears."

For an hour they continued their course south, the ground rising as they
went. Then they reached a dip running west.

"We will follow this," Dave said; "it is the right direction anyhow, and
it is as likely to take us down into the valleys again in time."

As they proceeded, the dip became more decided, and after two hours'
riding the sides narrowed in.

"We shall strike a water-course soon," Dave said, turning round to speak
to Tom, who was riding next to him. "The water that falls here has got
to make its way out somewhere, and this is the only way as it can go.
Not that there is much water, for it is often months without rain."

Presently they found that the ground was covered with pebbles.

"There is the water-course, you see," Dave said.