and rubbed his feet violently. Roldan kept steadily on, mindful of his
dignity as leader; but only as Adan joined him had his teeth ceased from
clattering and the warmth crawled back to his feet.

Cold, hungry, inexpressibly weary, the boys plodded on, sometimes in the
clear light of stars, sometimes under the chill blackness of meeting
trees. Fish and other slimy things darted across their feet; they
stepped to their waists into more than one treacherous pool. The dark
blue of the sky had turned to grey when Roldan raised his arm and
pointed to a squat dark object on the summit of the cliff.

"A hut," he said. "We are at the pueblo."

The boys crawled softly up the almost perpendicular bank and peered over
the edge. To all appearances the pueblo was deserted. If the soldiers
were there--and their horses were not--they slept within the huts. The
animal instinct, so bravely repressed, overcame the adventurers. They
ran across the open to the hut where the food was kept, and ate for
fifteen minutes without speaking or taking the trouble to hide
themselves.

XII

When they had satisfied their appetites they made two large packages of
dried meat and fruit, tying them securely with straw to their right
arms: saddle-bags there were none.

"Not a horse," whispered Adan. "Do you think the soldiers have gone?"

"I think they are lost, and as they did not stop to tie their horses