"No!" interrupted the girl.

Slingerland gave her a strange, admiring glance, then turned his
quick gray eyes upon Horn. "Anythin' I can take?"

Horn hesitated. "No. It was jest somethin' I wanted the girl to
hev."

Slingerland touched his shaggy horse and called over his shoulder:
"Rustle out of hyar!" Then he galloped down the trail, leaving the
travelers standing aghast.

"Break camp!" thundered Horn.

A scene of confusion followed. In a very short while the prairie-
schooners were lumbering down the valley. Twilight came just as the
flight got under way. The tired oxen were beaten to make them run.
But they were awkward and the loads were heavy. Night fell, and the
road was difficult to follow. The wagons rolled and bumped and
swayed from side to side; camp utensils and blankets dropped from
them. One wagon broke down. The occupants, frantically gathering
together their possessions, ran ahead to pile into the one in front.

Horn drove on and on at a gait cruel to both men and beasts. The
women were roughly shaken. Hours passed and miles were gained. That
valley led into another with an upgrade, rocky and treacherous. Horn
led on foot and ordered the men to do likewise. The night grew
darker. By and by further progress became impossible, for the oxen
failed and a wild barrier of trees and rocks stopped the way.