Returning, he carefully obliterated all traces of the camp. He
watered the ashes of the fire, gathered up the tell-tale scraps of
paper and fragments of food, and then when the place suited him
fell to examining his rifle.

Alaire watched him with interest. "Where shall I go," she asked,
"and what shall I do?"

"You just pick out a good cover beyond the water-hole and stay
there, ma'am. It may be a long wait, for something may have
happened. If so we'll have to lie close. And don't worry yourself
none, ma'am; he won't make no trouble."

The afternoon drew to a close. Gradually the blinding white glare
of the sun lessened and yellowed, the shadow of the bluffs began
to stretch out. The shallow pool lay silent, deserted save for
furtive little shapes that darted nervously out of the leaves, or
for winged visitors that dropped out of the air.

With the sunset there came the sound of hoofs upon loose stones,
branches rustled against breasting bodies, and Mrs. Austin cowered
low in her hiding-place. But it was only the advance-guard of a
bunch of brush cattle coming to water. They paused at a distance,
and nothing except their thirst finally overcame their suspicions.
One by one they drifted into sight, drank warily at the remotest
edge of the tanque, then, alarmed at some imaginary sight or
sound, went clattering up the ravine.

Once again the water-hole lay sleeping.