"It certainly was not your fault," he said to his horse, "and, after
all, it probably doesn't matter. We've had a long sound sleep and rest,
and I've no doubt that both of us will profit by it. Nothing seems to be
left in here for you to eat, but I'll take a little breakfast myself."

He did not relight the fire, but contented himself with cold food. Then
resaddling, he left the grove and rode northward again until he came to
a hill, or, rather, a swell, that was higher than the rest. Here he
stopped his horse and took a glance at the sun, which was shining with
uncommon brilliancy. Then he produced a small mirror from the pocket of
his hunting shirt and held it in such a position that it made a focus of
the sun's rays, throwing them in a perfect blazing lance of light.

He turned the flaming lance around the horizon, until it completed the
circle and then he started around with it again. Meantime he was keeping
a close watch upon every high point. A hill rose in the north, and he
looked at it longest, but nothing came from it. There was another, but
lower, hill in the west, and before he had completed the second round
with his glass a light flashed from it. It was a brilliant light, almost
like a sheaf of white incandescent rays. He lowered his own mirror and
the light played directly upon his hill. When it ceased he sent back
answering rays, to which, when he stopped, a rejoinder came in like
fashion. Then he put the little mirror back in the safe pocket of his
hunting shirt and rode with perfect confidence toward that western hill.

The crest that Ned sought was several miles away, although it looked
much nearer in the thin clear air of the plains, but he rode now at
increased speed, because there was much to draw him on. Old Jack seemed
to share in his lightness of spirit, raising his head once and neighing,