was a sensible relief.

From the hilltop looking down she could see the way they had gone; the
crooked gulch, a garment's crease in the great lap of the table-land,
sinking to the river. She saw no one, heard no sound but the senseless
hurry and bluster of the winds,--coming from no one knew where, going none
cared whither. It blew a gale in the bright sunlight, mocking her efforts
to listen. She waved her hand to her uncle's lone figure in the hollow, to
signify that she was going down on the other side. He assented, supposing
she had seen their fellow travelers returning.

She had been out of sight some moments, long enough for Mr. Withers to have
lapsed into his habit of absent musing, when Thane came rattling down the
slope of the opposite hill, surprised to see the old gentleman alone. His
long, black eyes went searching everywhere while he reported a fruitless
quest for the spring. Kinney and he had followed the gulch, which showed
nowhere a vestige of water, save in the path of the spring freshets, until
they had come in sight of the river; and Kinney had taken the horses on
down to drink, riding one and leading the other. It would be nearly three
miles to the river from where Thane had left him, but that was where all
the deceptive cattle trails were tending. Thane, returning, had made a loop
of his track around the hollow, but had failed to round up any spring.
Hence, as he informed Mr. Withers, this could not be Pilgrim Station. He
made no attempt to express his chagrin at this cruel and unseemly blunder.
The old gentleman accepted it with his usual uncomplaining deference to
circumstances; still, it was jarring to nerves overstrained and bruised
by the home thrust of Daphne's defection. He fell silent and drew within
himself, not reproachfully, but sensitively. Thane rightly surmised that
no second invocation would be offered when they should come to the true
Pilgrim Station; the old gentleman would keep his threnodies to himself