The girl led the way without as much as a passing thought for the dangers which surrounded her.  Truly had her companion said “I don’t see the path,” for no path was to be seen.  But Jacky had learned her lesson well—­and learned it from one who read the prairie as the Bedouin reads the desert.  The path was there and with a wondrous assurance she followed its course.

The travelers moved silently along.  No word was spoken; each was wrapped in thought.  Now and again a stray prairie chicken would fly up from their path with a whirr, and speed across the mire, calling to its mate as it went.  The drowsy chirrup of frogs went on unceasingly around, and already the ubiquitous mosquito was on the prowl for human gore.

The upstanding horses now walked with down-drooped heads, with sniffing noses low towards the ground, ears cocked, and with alert, careful tread, as if fully alive to the danger of their perilous road.  The silence of that ride teemed with a thrill of danger.  Half an hour passed and then the girl gathered up her reins and urged her willing horse into a canter.

“Come on, Bill, the path is more solid now, and wider.  The worst part is on the far side,” she called back over her shoulder.

Her companion followed her unquestioningly.

The sun was already dipping towards the distant peaks and already a shadowy haze was rising upon the eastern prairie.  The chill of winter grew keener as the sun slowly sank.

Two-thirds of the journey were covered and Jacky, holding up a warning hand, drew up her horse.  Her companion came to a stand beside her.

“The path divides in three here,” said the girl, glancing keenly down at the fresh green grass.  “Two of the branches are blind and end abruptly further on.  Guess we must avoid ’em,” she went on shortly, “unless we are anxious to punctuate our earthly career.  This is the one we must take,” turning her horse to the left path.  “Keep your eye peeled and stick to Nigger’s footprints.”

The man did as he was bid, marvelling the while at the strange knowledge of his companion.  He had no fear; he only wondered.  The trim, graceful figure on the horse ahead of him occupied all his thoughts.  He watched her as, with quiet assurance she guided her horse.  He had known Jacky for years.  He had watched her grow to womanhood, but although her up-bringing must of necessity have taught her an independence and courage given to few women, he had never dreamt of the strength of the sturdy nature she was now displaying.  Again his thoughts went to the tales of the gossips of the settlement, and the strange figure of the daring cattle-thief loomed up over his mental horizon.  He rode, and as he rode he wondered.  The end Of this journey would be a fitting place for the explanations which must take place between them.

At length the shaking path came to an end and the mire was crossed.  A signal from the girl brought her companion to her side.