Unable to stay there to see Jane’s favorite racer die, Venters hurried up the trail to meet the other black.  On the way he kept a sharp lookout for Jerry Card.  Venters imagined the rider would keep well out of range of the rifle, but, as he would be lost on the sage without a horse, not improbably he would linger in the vicinity on the chance of getting back one of the blacks.  Night soon came trotting up, hot and wet and run out.  Venters led him down near the others, and unsaddling him, let him loose to rest.  Night wearily lay down in the dust and rolled, proving himself not yet spent.

Then Venters sat down to rest and think.  Whatever the risk, he was compelled to stay where he was, or comparatively near, for the night.  The horses must rest and drink.  He must find water.  He was now seventy miles from Cottonwoods, and, he believed, close to the canyon where the cattle trail must surely turn off and go down into the Pass.  After a while he rose to survey the valley.

He was very near to the ragged edge of a deep canyon into which the trail turned.  The ground lay in uneven ridges divided by washes, and these sloped into the canyon.  Following the canyon line, he saw where its rim was broken by other intersecting canyons, and farther down red walls and yellow cliffs leading toward a deep blue cleft that he made sure was Deception Pass.  Walking out a few rods to a promontory, he found where the trail went down.  The descent was gradual, along a stone-walled trail, and Venters felt sure that this was the place where Oldring drove cattle into the Pass.  There was, however, no indication at all that he ever had driven cattle out at this point.  Oldring had many holes to his burrow.

In searching round in the little hollows Venters, much to his relief, found water.  He composed himself to rest and eat some bread and meat, while he waited for a sufficient time to elapse so that he could safely give the horses a drink.  He judged the hour to be somewhere around noon.  Wrangle lay down to rest and Night followed suit.  So long as they were down Venters intended to make no move.  The longer they rested the better, and the safer it would be to give them water.  By and by he forced himself to go over to where Black Star lay, expecting to find him dead.  Instead he found the racer partially if not wholly recovered.  There was recognition, even fire, in his big black eyes.  Venters was overjoyed.  He sat by the black for a long time.  Black Star presently labored to his feet with a heave and a groan, shook himself, and snorted for water.  Venters repaired to the little pool he had found, filled his sombrero, and gave the racer a drink.  Black Star gulped it at one draught, as if it were but a drop, and pushed his nose into the hat and snorted for more.  Venters now led Night down to drink, and after a further time Black Star also.  Then the blacks began to graze.