For a moment he gazed around with that peculiar, all-observing keenness which is given to those whose lives are spent in countries where human habitation is sparse—­where the work of man is lost in the immensity of Nature’s effort.  He could see no sign of the girl.  And yet he knew she could not be far away.  His instincts told him to search for her horse tracks.  He was sure she had passed that way.  While yet he was thinking, she suddenly reappeared over the brow of a further hill.  She halted at the summit, and, seeing him, waved a summons.  Her gesticulations were excited and he hastened to obey.  Down into the intervening valley his horse plunged with headlong recklessness.  At the bottom there was a hard, beaten track.  Almost unconsciously he allowed his beast to adopt it.  It wound round and upwards, at the base of the hill on which Jacky was waiting for him.  He passed the bend, then, with a desperate, backward heave of the body, he “yanked” his horse short up, throwing the eager animal on to its haunches.

He had pulled up on what, at first appeared to be the brink of a precipice, and what in reality was a declivity, down which only the slow and sure foot of a steer or broncho might safely tread.  He sat aghast at his narrow escape.  Then, turning at the sound of a voice behind him, he found that Jacky had come down from the hill above.

“See, Bill,” she cried, as she drew abreast of his hard-breathing horse, “there he is!  Down there, peacefully, grazing.”

Her excitement was intense, and the hand with which she pointed shook like an aspen.  Her agitation was incomprehensible to the man.  He looked down.  Hitherto he had seen little beyond the brink at which he had come to such a sudden stand.  But now, as he gazed down, he beheld a deep dark-shadowed valley, far-reaching and sombre.  From their present position its full extent was beyond the range of vision, but sufficient was to be seen to realize that here was one of those vast hiding-places only to be found in lands where Nature’s fanciful mood has induced the mighty upheaval of the world’s greatest mountain ranges.  On the far side of the deep, sombre vale a towering craig rose wall-like, sheer up, overshadowing the soft, green pasture deep down at the bottom of the yawning gulch.  Dense patches of dark, relentless pinewoods lined its base, and, over all, in spite of the broad daylight, a peculiar shadow, as of evening, added mystery to the haunting view.

It was some seconds before the man was able to distinguish the tiny object which had roused the girl to such unaccountable excitement.  When he did, however, he beheld a golden chestnut horse quietly grazing as it made its way leisurely towards the ribbon-like stream which flowed in the bosom of the mysterious valley.  “Lord” Bill’s voice was quite emotionless when he spoke.

“Ah, a chestnut!” he said quietly.  “Well, our quest is vain.  He is beyond our reach.”